Underlings
by KellyAnnie
Summary: You're just sitting in here, trying to convince yourself that you really DO know the problem, even though you really DON'T. HouseCam
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** They are not mine. Ever. Which is sad, because I could love them! I COULD!

**Author's Notes:** I'm back again! This fic is quite a bit different than the other ones I've written, and it's considerably darker. But I hope you guys enjoy it. Per usual, thanks to my beta, Tasha. Enjoy.

As she sat across the table from him, she was his enemy, his adversary. How she'd made it to the board of directors was beyond him, and all he cared about right now was that she was the only one keeping him in his job. She was abstaining from the vote.

The other doctors on the room came down on her, requesting respectfully that she at least put in some form of an opinion; she'd been completely quiet for the entire mock of a trial that he'd been in front of them. And while they encouraged her to vote, she continued to remain quiet.

She stared him down, hands crossed calmly in front of her on the cold, metal table. It appeared as though she was the only one who could understand why he'd made the decision that he had. Finally, she held up her hand for silence. He was surprised when her fellow doctors all fell silent.

She stood slowly, hands pressed firmly on the table. "I would like to remind you all that Dr. House is one of the best doctors on staff here," she spoke sternly. "I would also like to remind everyone that he has constantly proven to be quite good at his job, albeit unprofessional. I hereby suggest that Dr. House remains in employment here at Princeton-Plainsboro, returning to us after a two week suspension for his crass comments to the patient in question."

The other doctors on the board of directors starting muttering amongst themselves, and she held up her hand for silence once again.

"I also propose that Dr. House should work under an advisor, to be assigned by the board of directors."

"Again?" one of the directors asked. "He didn't do so well last time."

"Should Dr. House continue to practice in his severely unprofessional manner, the advisor will remain intact and Dr. House will lose his position as head of Diagnostics. Sound fair, gentlemen?"

The doctors muttered amongst themselves before giving affirmative nods. She turned back to House with a sternly set face. "That's it, then. You'll have your advisor Monday, two weeks from now, Dr. House. You're free to go."

House stood, gripping his cane angrily. "Thank you, Dr. Cameron."

Monday, House entered his office five minutes early. Sure, he hated his job sometimes, but he didn't actually want to lose it. So he arrived early to ensure that he was there before his "advisor" set down by the board of directors. They were probably going to throw some new idiot at him to crush.

His brow furrowed when Cameron walked in, wearing a pantsuit. Her hair was pulled back into some severe style that really didn't suit her, and she wore her glasses as she was carrying a file and reading its contents.

"I didn't order a stripper to be sent to me, but if you need a pole, my cane might suffice."

Cameron rolled her eyes and plopped a copy of the file down on his desk. "The board elected that I be your supervisor. They claim that I'm the only one who can take you."

House smirked. "Well, this is going to be fun. I get to walk all over my _advisor_."

"Dr. House, I'll have you know-"

"Oh, cut the crap, Cameron," House snapped. "You're going to let me practice the way I've been practicing."

Cameron frowned. "No, I won't. Your charting is three months behind, and you'll do that before you accept any new cases."

"What's this, then?" he asked, picking up the file copy.

"Your most recent chart. You can start with that one and work backwards."

"Oh, come on-"

"Dr. House," Cameron interrupted sternly, snapping her glasses off of her face and folding them, placing them in the inner breast pocket of her suit. "I'd suggest you don't do anything that might make me report you to the board. I'd hate to have to fire you."

He glowered at her and opened the chart. "_Fine_," he snapped. "To think that only ten years ago, you were my underling."

"Reminiscing isn't going to get you anywhere," she replied coolly. "Do your charting. I'll be taking your fellows to a differentials session in oncology, where I don't expect to see you." She headed for the doors, but paused before she left. "And kindly remember, Dr. House, that disobeying these orders will result in immediate dismissal." With that parting shot, she left his office.

House sat back in his chair and glared after her. Things had taken a turn for the worst since Foreman, Chase, and Cameron had completed their fellowships. The fellows that he got after them didn't measure to half of their brilliance. As more and more fellows went through, he realized more and more how lucky he'd been to have his ducklings.

The latest bout of fellows were all goody-two-shoes, as he'd complained to Wilson on more than one occasion. When House wanted to treat without complete proof, they ran to Cuddy. When he didn't have _enough_ proof for them, they ran to Cuddy. And on this last case, when his controversial treatment had resulted in saving a life, but not the total quality of life, he'd been ratted out and thrown at the mercy of the board of directors.

He hadn't been surprised when Cameron had been the only one to stand for him. He was still astonished that she was on the board with those sharks. They could have eaten her for breakfast when she'd started working for him. And now? Well, shit. Now she could eat _them_ for breakfast, lunch, and dinner and not give a single backward glance.

At times, he wondered what caused it. Now, he had to know. He didn't realize it was possible for her to be the ice bitch that she'd been just five minutes ago. He was going to have to figure this out. And since he had her as his "advisor," he didn't see it taking too horribly long. He'd solve this puzzle, just like he solved the rest of them. With that thought in mind, he flipped open his chart.

At lunch, Cameron reported back to House's office to check on him. He was there, iPod in his ears, doing his charting like a good boy. She was immediately suspicious that he would actually do what he was told, but seeing as how he'd lose his job for insubordination, she supposed that she shouldn't be so surprised.

She took a seat in a chair across from his desk and waited for him to take his iPod out of his ears. Once he did, she crossed her fingers loosely and rested her elbows on the arms of the chair. "I take it you got plenty done this morning?" she asked, crossing one ankle over the other.

"I have fifteen charts to go," he glowered at her.

"Don't get angry with me," she stated coolly, studying her nails. "If you'd done your charting in the first place, we wouldn't be playing this game now." She looked up at him from her nails. "Would you like to get lunch?"

"Not with Dr. Cameron, Bitch Extraordinaire," he told her, slamming his chart shut and tossing it off to the side with the other finished ones.

"Don't get snippy just because you have to do your job now." Her body was relaxed and confidence practically oozed off of her.

"When the hell did you get so confident?" he asked angrily. "I could walk all over you all the way through your fellowship with me and now you're not only the head of Internal Medicine, but you're on the board of directors. Who did you sleep with to get where you are?"

"Cuddy. She likes my pretty girl-parts," Cameron shot back.

"Nice." He frowned at his remaining charts and sat back in his chair, tapping his pencil absently on his knee. "You're bitchier, brassier, and a whole lot icier. I want to know why."

"I'm not here to give you what you want," she responded. "I'm here to make sure you do your job properly and ethically."

"Yeah, I know. I don't give a crap about that. I want to know what made you like this."

"If you had a dollar for everything you wanted, you'd be a rich man and you wouldn't be on probation right now," she informed him, standing from her seat. "I'm taking lunch; you can do so, as well. You have one hour for lunch, and you're required to punch out at the nurse's station when you go."

"What the hell is this, Auschwitz?" House asked in outrage.

"Compare it to a concentration camp all you like; just don't tell Wilson. He might get offended." She turned to leave. "And, Dr. House."

He quirked an eyebrow to let her know he was listening.

"I've wisely decided to keep my private life just that; _private_. Any further questions you may have on the matter should be consciously diverted."

"Even your vocabulary is bitchy. Not normal bitchy… _Rich_ bitchy."

"Have a nice lunch hour, Dr. House." And she left him in confusion once more.

What in the hell was going on with her?

It was that evening that House got a little glimpse into what had caused this drastic change in the sweet, kind Dr. Cameron of the past. She'd been working at Princeton Main for a while and he hadn't heard any gossip about her; probably because he didn't bother to listen for it.

As he cracked open the door to her office, he heard her on the phone with someone. He left the door opened a crack and listened to the conversation. Thank God for speakerphone.

"I want the lake house," Cameron said coldly.

"You want _everything_, Allison," a man's voice drawled boredly.

"Yes, well, I think I deserve anything I want with the kind of behavior you've had. I want the lake house."

A sigh. "Fine." The word was long and drawn out in annoyance. "The lake house is yours. Which car?"

"Jaguar."

"Good. I like the Porsche better, anyway. I'm getting the estates in England."

"You can _have_ the estates in England," she bit out bitterly. "I hated them."

"Yes, yes, we all know. Do you want the books in the library? I'm not going to read those medical worse-for-wears."

Her jaw clenched. "Send them to my post office box."

"Are you paying for postage?"

"You have plenty to do so yourself," she sneered. "As far as the monetary settlement is concerned, you'll be hearing from my lawyer."

"I can't believe you want more money out of me," the man whined. "I've given you an allowance since we married."

"You're made of money, Richard. You can afford a bit more after everything you've put me through." She picked up a yo-yo off of her desk and then sat on the desk, playing with the object to calm herself.

"What about Lydia?"

"I don't want her. She's annoying and stupid," Cameron said with a bored sigh.

"Well, I don't want the little brat, either," Richard snapped.

"Call your mother; she _loves_ Lydia."

"Fine. Mother will take Lydia. And the manor in Georgia?"

"Mine. I picked it out and refurbished it myself."

"Yes… You always were a bit on the gritty side, weren't you? I suppose I liked it years ago."

Cameron threw the yo-yo across the room, satisfied when it hit the wall with a dull _thud_. "And I suppose I liked that stick up your ass, too. It's late, Richard. My lawyer will contact yours."

"But of course. Goodbye, Allison."

"Goodbye, Richard." She hung up the phone and picked up the pen holder on her desk, tossing it angrily at the wall with a frustrated scream caught in the back of her throat.

House chose that moment to walk in. "Someone sounds very unhappy," he commented slowly.

Cameron's eyes widened. "How much of that conversation did you hear?" she demanded anxiously. "Tell me how much you heard."

"Well, I know what you're getting from the lake house on down," he commented, leaning on his cane. "Someone's been naughty," he said in a sing-song voice.

She frowned, moving to pick up the pens and place them back in the holder that she'd chucked across the room. "It isn't any of your business and you should have made your presence known."

"I'm not one of your servants," he replied with a quirked eyebrow. "Did you have servants? I'll bet you did."

"Stop it," she snapped, placing the pen holder back on her desk, where it belonged. "You have no idea what that was about. Furthermore-"

"I know a divorce settlement when I hear one," House cut in. "You married Richard the rich bastard and now you're getting a divorce. Why?"

"None of your business."

"_Why_?"

"Dr. House, I highly suggest you reconsider your line of questioning," Cameron said severely, a frown firmly in place as she stood tall, her chin up at a slight angle in defiance. "If you've some business reason to be here to see me, then by all means, get to it. If not, I ask kindly that you leave."

"I'm going to repeat what I said earlier," House said, his voice a low growl. "I'm not one of your servants. You don't order me around like that."

"I'm your superior," Cameron snapped. "I'll order you around however I like."

"Someone got your knickers in a mighty tight twist," he responded with a small, knowing smirk. "And look at you now; rich bitch Allison Cameron. Girl with an attitude. I'll bet you're pretty used to people following your orders now. Is that why the board of directors respects you so much? Do they fear you?"

"It isn't your business, Dr. House. Refrain from these highly inappropriate questions."

He laughed. "_Refrain from these highly inappropriate questions_?" he asked with a look of sheer amusement. "Are you going to smack me with your pure, white glove next? Call for help from your beaus?"

She sneered at him and slapped him right across the cheek. "You go to Hell," she snarled. "Get out of my office."

House rubbed the spot on his cheek where she'd landed her open-handed hit. Christ, but that woman had an arm on her. "The charting's done," he said flatly. "Can I have a case tomorrow?"

"I'll check over your charting in the morning and tell you then. You have clinic from nine until noon." She was so cold. So professional. It almost worried House.

"Yes, ma'am," he muttered, heading for the door. "Oh, and just so you know… I think it's shitty that you'd give your kid away."

"My what?" Cameron asked in confusion.

"Your kid. Lydia."

Cameron smirked and crossed her arms over her chest. "This is why you shouldn't eavesdrop," she said coolly. "Lydia's a Lhasa Apso. Not a child. Now kindly keep your nose out of my business. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Right," he muttered, leaving her office. "Tomorrow."


	2. Chapter 2

Over the next few weeks, House observed Cameron to the point where it was bordering on obsession. She had her good days, when she'd grin and even joke around with his fellows. And she had her bad days, when she'd snap and snarl like an angry bear being poked through the bars of its cage.

It got to the point where he could tell when she'd spoken with Richard and when she hadn't. When she had, she would stride along with her chin held high. When she hadn't, she'd walk slowly, comfortably, and stop to smile and give a hello to the patients. It was one particular day that he finally broke down and confronted her.

When she walked into his office, he drew the blinds. She gave him a confused look with a quirked eyebrow. "I don't want kinky office sex," she said flatly.

"I do, but not right now," he retorted, leaning against the door. "You're quiet today."

"It's the flat shoes; they don't warn people when I'm coming like the heels do."

House smirked. "You're not being your usual rich-bitch self. It's disconcerting."

"I don't know how many times I'm going to have to repeat myself and tell you that it isn't your concern," she responded coldly, arms slightly behind her as she propped herself against his desk. "I'm in the middle of a divorce; it's difficult. That's really all you need to know."

"Have you talked to Wilson?"

"We have dinner scheduled for a few nights from now." She picked up his over-sized tennis ball and tossed it slowly between her hands.

"So you'll talk to him, but not me."

"I'm sorry, have you been through a divorce?" she asked sweetly, setting the ball back down and quirking her head to the side. "Should I be coming to you for advice on how to handle this? Because as far as I know, the most you've had is a lover who left you. Wilson's a pro at divorces by now."

"Oh, burn." He pushed off of the wall and walked toward her. "I'm concerned."

"You're not," she brushed off his comment with a shrug. "You see this as just another puzzle that you've simply got to solve. I hate to have to be the one to break this to you, but you aren't solving this one, House. Deal with it."

"Why did you marry him?" he asked suddenly, eyes narrowed in curiosity. "Why did you marry that guy? He wasn't dying."

Cameron frowned. "I married him because I wanted to," she snapped coldly. "Not that it's any of your _business_, but I don't fall in love strictly with people who are dying or horribly wounded."

"Could have fooled me. What was wrong with him? What made you want him?" House continued to question. He was breaking her resolve… He had to be, or she wouldn't be answering his questions. She'd storm off in ice bitch mode and return later with more menial tasks for him to do until she felt that she'd punished him enough. Oh, he knew her game by now.

"He was attractive," she said, eyes boring into his as she sneered angrily at him. "He was sweet. He was great in bed." And then, the final blow. "He was clean-shaven and could walk just fine without the aid of a cane."

House was stunned, to say the least. "…Ouch," he responded with a glare.

"If your curiosity is satiated, I'll be going back to work now. Your patient needs your immediate attention." She dropped a pager on his desk. "You left your pager in my office, or I would have simply paged you to the room."

She made to leave for the door, but House stepped in front of her to stop her. "If you don't tell me, I'm just going to get it from Wilson after you two have your little dinner date."

"Fine by me. He's not getting all of the information, either." She side-stepped him and strode out of his office.

As it turned out, Wilson really hadn't gotten all of the information. He'd discovered that the marriage turned sour, but he didn't know why. Cameron would dodge the question every time. He had managed to get down to the nitty-gritty of the divorce settlement, and told House that Cameron was milking this guy for his money. But he still didn't know why.

House said that there had to be something else going on; Cameron wasn't the type to milk things for all that they were worth. Perhaps she was out for revenge? After all, she'd changed too much since she'd finished her fellowship with him that he supposed he couldn't put anything past her now. Not until he re-learned the things that made Cameron who she was.

Wilson commented that House was getting too into this for his own good; that he'd either start falling for Cameron or hating her. He disagreed, earning a good frown from his friend.

Late one night, as he was researching for his current case, Cameron came into his office. He checked the clock and then gave her a small frown. "You should be in bed right about now, shouldn't you?"

"As your advisor, I sort of have to stay here until you leave," she told him, plopping into a chair and covering her mouth as she yawned.

"Have everything worked out with Richie Rich?"

Cameron gave House a flat look. "I specifically recall asking you to stop with those questions."

"And I specifically recall not giving a damn about your requests," he responded with a smile. "C'mon, Cameron. Let me in on the big secret."

"No. Why are you still here?"

He scowled and turned to his tomes of journals, mind focused on work once more. "I'm trying to figure out what the patient has," he muttered, flipping a page. "None of the symptoms add up correctly; it's ridiculous."

Cameron glanced over at the whiteboard and frowned. She stood, walking toward his desk and reading over his shoulder. "You don't want this journal," she murmured thoughtfully, closing it and searching through the rest of the books on his desk until she found the right one. "The Journal of Diagnostic Medicine is great for a read, but try the Diagnostic Guide for this case."

"I haven't used that thing in years," he said with a snort of laughter.

She leaned over, flipping through the pages. Her breast just barely brushed his arm and he watched her attentively. That little white blouse she was wearing was cute, to be sure. Probably extremely expensive, too. He could make out the outline of her bra; thin straps, maybe silk or satin. Definitely not cotton.

"Here," she said, pointing to an article.

He slowly moved his eyes to the article. "Damn. You're good."

"I've grown a bit over the years, Dr. House," she answered with a self-satisfied smile. She moved to go back to her seat, but he took hold of her wrist.

"How long were you married to him?" he asked, eyes searching hers.

She hesitated and dropped her gaze to where his hand held her wrist. "Six years. I was married to him for six years."

"How long did you know him before you married?" he continued questioning.

"I really don't see how-"

"Just answer the question," he bit out smoothly.

She frowned and pulled her wrist out of his hand. "No. Go home; there's nothing more you can do tonight."

"I want to know-"

"I don't care." Again, her chin went up a notch and her back straightened to the flexibility of a wooden rod. "I can't leave until you do."

"I'm not leaving until you answer the question."

"Good thing I have a change of clothes in my locker and a comfy couch in my office, then." She sat in the comfy chair opposite his desk and crossed her legs at her ankles, giving him a small, patient smile.

He sat back in his chair and returned the smile. "Oh, I can wait all night, Dr. Cameron." When she remained silent, giving him a small sigh, he smirked. "All you have to do is tell me how long you knew him before you tied the knot. It's not even that personal of a question."

"That doesn't change the fact that it remains none of your business. What does it matter how long I knew him beforehand? The point is that we're divorcing now; before has ceased to be important."

"You can't possibly live your entire life like that," he replied with a small laugh of disbelief. "Not even with your new level o' bitchitude."

She grinned. "Not my entire life," she admitted. "But it's a perfect way to live it through this divorce."

He gave her a thoughtful look and frowned. "Fine. I'm getting out of here for the night." He stood and grabbed his knapsack, throwing it over his shoulder. "Come for a drink with me. We'll be fun-loving colleagues."

She stood, as well, straightening her suit as she did so. "I … don't think so. I have some things to take care of, and-"

"You can take one night off, Doctor," he said with a roll of his eyes. "C'mon. Drinks. For old times' sake."

Cameron smiled. "We never got drinks in the 'old times' you're talking about," she reminded him. "I distinctly remember chasing you around like a lovesick puppy until I finally gave up and moved on to bigger and better things."

"Ooh, ouch." He shivered and adjusted his knapsack. "Then chalk it up to new times. What'll it hurt?"

She knew he had a point, but that didn't mean she had to _acknowledge_ it. "Maybe some other time." She turned to leave, but his next comment stopped her.

"Scared?"

She stopped and turned on her heel. "Hardly."

"Intimidated?"

"In your dreams."

"Then let's get some drinks."

He watched the emotions cross her face: trepidation, uncertainty, and finally, that sort of arrogance that she'd managed to build. "Let me get my purse."

It was two hours later that the two of them sat in a booth at a local bar, doubled over in laughter. Neither had imbibed enough alcohol to excuse their guffaws, but they seemed to be having a genuinely good time as they shared stories of the past ten years.

"So, this patient comes in with this _huge_ afro," Cameron said, her laughter dying down slowly as she pantomimed an afro with her hands. "And there's so much hair that he may as well have a fifteen-pound hat on his head. So he comes in and looks at me and says, 'Doc, I'm telling you. The headaches just won't go away!'" Her laughter returned full-force, along with House's. "And I tell him that maybe he should cut off that massive growth on his head. He thought I was talking about a tumor!"

They laughed together, House shaking his head and wishing that Cameron had been lying about the idiot of a patient. "I've got that beat," he told her with a nod. "I have definitely got that beat."

"Oh, bring it," she challenged with a bright smile.

"Old lady comes into the clinic complaining of shortness of breath and chest pain," he started with a grin. "So I tell her that I'm going to take her pulse and whatnot. She starts _gasping_ for air as soon as I touch her. Before I know it, she has me pinned to the clinic window, begging me to just 'take me now, before my husband returns!'" he exclaimed, mimicking the old woman's voice. "I had to call orderlies to get her off of me."

Cameron laughed and covered her face with her hands. "Was she all wrinkly?" she asked, gasping for breath due to her laughter.

"Wrinkly as a raisin." He took a drink of his beer and licked the foam off of his lips. "So I've got to know… Why come back to PPTH?"

She shrugged and took a delicate sip of her daiquiri. "They offered me a better job. Over at Princeton Main, I was second-in-command to this completely chauvinistic bastard. Cuddy offered me not only head of Internal Medicine, but a seat on the board of directors. I couldn't possibly turn it down."

"It … didn't have anything to do with what's-his-name?"

Cameron frowned. "Richard. No, it didn't." She waved the waiter over and asked for water. "Not every decision I ever make has to revolve around my spouse. Ex-spouse."

"Hey, just asking," House responded, holding up his hands in surrender. "No need to go cold."

She sighed and shrugged. "I can't help but get defensive. I'm sure you understand. How would you like it if I came at you with a barrage of questions about Stacy?"

"Fair enough." He sat back, fingers tapping on the tabletop quietly. "I do have to say that I never expected you to marry rich. I didn't think you were so shallow."

A severe frown settled on her face. "I wasn't being shallow when I married him. I genuinely loved him. Things just went rotten; that happens with some marriages. And I didn't know he was rich until after he'd proposed," she said with a quirked eyebrow, downing the rest of her drink.

"Really?" House asked, surprise evident in his voice.

"Mmm." She set her drink down and dabbed at her upper lip with a napkin. "Richard was a trust fund baby. His parents raised him to keep his fortune a secret until he'd found the right woman. So … he found me. He proposed and I met his family two weeks after. It was … quite a surprise."

"So you married a guy who based your relationship with him on a complete lie?"

Cameron's brow furrowed in confusion. "No. Why do you say that?"

"He lied to you. He didn't tell you that he was rich and he let you believe that he was something that he wasn't."

"So?" Cameron asked with a small laugh. "I understand him wanting to keep it a secret; women would be after him for his money if they knew how rich he was. I wanted him for who he was, not what he had."

"And he didn't make you sign a pre-nup?" House asked skeptically.

"House, he already knew I didn't want his money. Not to mention the fact that, being a well-respected doctor, I make plenty of my own. Besides…" She took a sip of the water that was set down in front of her. "Neither of us wanted a pre-nup. Of course, that's why we're in the mess that we're in now, but I suppose there isn't much that can be done for that now."

"You seem to take it pretty well," he pointed out smoothly.

She gave him a cool stare, knowing what he was asking without him having to actually say anything. "There were plenty of reasons for the divorce," she said simply. "It just wasn't working out and we both realized it. I'm not even taking a quarter of his money, if that's what you're implying."

"You know better than that, Cameron," House drawled, twirling his glass slowly in a circle. "If I wanted to say something to you, I wouldn't _imply_; I'd just say it. I don't think you wanted him for his money, even after you knew he had it. You just don't have that sort of personality." He paused, studying her with narrowed, inquisitive eyes. "I _do_ think that you're gouging him now, though. Whatever he did to make you initiate a divorce, it hit hard."

Cameron took in a quick breath and her lips tightened. "What makes you think I initiated it?"

He smirked and took a slow drink of his beer. "You wouldn't let him walk all over you; not with the way you've turned out."

"You don't know a thing about-"

"Don't try and play me for stupid, Cameron," he scolded. "I can read what you're not saying. You initiated the divorce, and for a very good reason. I just want to know what it is." When she opened her mouth to retort, he rushed forth with his speech. "Of course, I know you're not going to open up and tell me willingly. But I'll get it out of you eventually." He gave her a mockingly sweet smile and finished his beer. "I always get it out of you, eventually."


	3. Chapter 3

It was a few weeks later that House was taking a file to Cameron's office. The door was closed and he knocked before peeking his head inside. As he did so, he saw Cameron pick up her phone and wave him inside. Apparently, she'd been on speakerphone. And she was having a conversation that she didn't want House to hear.

It had to be the ex.

He took a seat and watched her. Her brow was furrowed as she listened to whatever was being said on the other line. She looked to House, rolled her eyes heavenward, and held her hand out for the file that he was carrying. He handed it over and she slammed it down onto her desk.

"Because I _said_ so and I don't want them involved!" she said through gritted teeth.

House quirked an eyebrow and listened. Cameron was so pissed off that he was pretty sure she wouldn't even notice him there as she slammed things around on her desk.

"Because they don't need to be involved," she continued, pulling out a pen and signing off on some billing statements. "This isn't _their_ divorce; it's _our_ divorce." A pause as she stacked the statements neatly to the side of her desk. "Yes, I realize that they want to be a means of support for you through this horribly rough time," she drawled snidely. "However, they don't need to know the concrete statements of the settlement. And if you continue to hand over the information, you'll be hearing from my lawyer for confidentiality infringement."

House smirked and sat back in his chair. Oh, but he was going to enjoy this show; probably far more than he actually should.

"No, for your information. I've kept the details of our split to the bare minimum. The only thing that my colleagues know is that I'm in the middle of a divorce settlement. And by the way, your continuous calls count as harassment."

He cringed when she tightened her little hand into a fist and started shaking. What the hell was this guy saying to her?

"I was _never_ such a cold woman, you bastard. _Never_. I was there for you the entire time you had…"

House was stunned when he saw her eyes fill with tears.

"I'm not having this conversation now. Goodbye, Richard." She slammed down the phone and wiped at her eyes, embarrassed when she noticed that House was still in her office. "Why are you still here? You should be back to work. What does this hospital pay you to do?"

"I'm entitled to a break every hour," he responded, watching her. "What did he want this time?"

"None of your business, Dr. House."

"I've noticed… You get pissed off at me and I'm Dr. House again. You're okay with me and I'm just House. Why is that?"

Her voice shook when she spoke again. "Please remove yourself from my office."

"My god, the ice woman cries." He stood his ground and watched as a tear trickled down her cheek.

"Leave me be," she whispered quietly. "I don't want you here right now." Another tear slipped down her cheek and she wiped it away angrily. "_Get out_, House!"

"No." He stood and moved so that he sat on the corner of her desk. "This is the first time I've seen you cry in about a decade; I can't miss this opportunity."

The tears finally came out in succession, and she grabbed a tissue to hide her face from him. She didn't speak any more; didn't try to make him leave or order him away from her. She just sat there and cried silently.

House frowned. "What did he say to you?" he asked curiously, a bit of concern showing through in his voice. "I mean, to make you get all teary when you were a pillar of strength not fifteen minutes ago?"

She wiped her eyes and nose, tossing the tissue in the trash and grabbing a new one to blow her nose delicately, which made House smirk. Who the hell blew their nose in a delicate manner? "He just knows what to say to upset me, that's all," she said softly. "It isn't really a problem; nothing to concern yourself with."

"I'm not concerning myself with it," he commented. "I'm just dying to know."

"I'm not telling you," she whispered, reaching into her desk for hand sanitizer and squirting some into her palm, rubbing it in until it dried. "I don't think it's going to affect our working relationship as to whether or not you know, which means you don't need to know."

"But I want to."

"I'm not giving you what you want, so you're going to have to deal with that." She placed the sanitizer back in her desk and stood, collecting her billing statements. "We're through here." She headed for her door with the intent to leave, thwarted by his next statement.

"He called you cold, didn't he?" House asked, eyes piercing Cameron with their intensity. When she stopped dead in her tracks, he knew he was on to something. "Did he tell you that you were uncaring? Unable to have any compassion?" He paused, studying her rigid form. "Did he say you didn't care about him?"

He heard a strangled sob and a hesitantly whispered, "Yes."

"And you believed him."

"No."

"Then why are you so upset by it?"

"It hurts," she whispered, leaning a hand against the door and hanging her head as she sobbed openly. "It hurts to know that he never loved me."

"Never?"

"I was his trophy," she cried, dropping her billings and leaning against the door, sliding down to the floor. "He wanted a beautiful woman to hang on his arm and I fell for all of it. The fake charm, the flowers, the gorgeous engagement ring." She buried her face in her hands and her hair fell over like a curtain, blocking her from House's intense gaze. "He made me feel like a princess… For our wedding, he bought me a three thousand dollar dress because it was made exactly the way I'd always dreamed it would be."

House frowned as he listened to Cameron's broken ramblings. What had this guy done to make her think she was nothing more than a trophy…?

"He took me on a month-long honeymoon," she continued, not bothering to wipe her tears anymore. It almost felt good to cry openly again. "We went all over the world; anywhere I wanted to go, he would take me. I saw Japan and Egypt and South Africa. He took me to Paris and all on his private jet." She swallowed, trying to stop the sobbing; but now that it had started, it refused. "Everything was fine for the first few years. He was perfect; we were so perfect. And then things just fell apart. He said that I didn't care about him or his life, that I was this horrible, selfish person."

She raised her eyes to House's, and he was struck by the absolute sadness there. She looked alone, desperate, and truly heartbroken.

"I'm not selfish," she whispered brokenly. "I'm not selfish."

Still stunned, he walked over to her and slowly made his way down the wall to sit next to her. "You're not selfish," he affirmed softly.

"I'm not selfish…" she repeated, shaking her head and wiping at her tears.

He could barely believe what he was seeing. Cameron wasn't selfish; not in the least. But she was, quite obviously, way more damaged than he'd originally thought.

It was two days later that the shit hit the fan. Cameron was in House's office, berating him for his treatment of a patient. He was very busy ignoring her when he saw a man looking around as though he were lost.

The man was tall and lean and wearing a very expensive-looking black suit. He had black hair and wore silver, wire-frame glasses. Very sleek. Very rich. House smirked. "Looks like someone's here to see you," he said, cutting off Cameron's latest rant.

She rolled her eyes. "And who would that be?" she asked, exasperated with House's behavior as of late.

"Judging by the very expensive clothing, I'm guess it's your oh-so-wonderful ex-hubby." He nodded to the window and Cameron looked, letting out an angry sigh after doing so. "You don't seem happy."

She rolled her eyes once more. "Imagine me not being happy to see Richard here." She bit her bottom lip, a move that House hadn't seen her do for … well … years. "I … might need to ask you a favor," she said quietly.

Well, this would be good. "And what might that be?"

"I want Richard to think I've moved on," she said hesitantly. "Could you … maybe … just … act the part? I mean, until he leaves."

House quirked an eyebrow and smirked. "You want me to play the part of your new lover?" he asked.

"Well … yes. Just until he leaves, of course. I'll give you time off clinic," she persuaded.

"Well in that case…" He looked at Richard, who was still staring blankly around, and nodded. "You've got a deal. I'll be your lover," he said mischievously.

She wasn't very fond of his tone of voice and suspected that he might be up to something, but she took a breath to calm herself and walked confidently to the door, opening it and putting a hand on her hip. "Lost?" she asked sweetly.

Richard turned and gave her a polite smile. "I was told you'd be in Diagnostics. Of course, no one told me where that _was_…" He walked into the office without being invited and his eyes rested condescendingly on House. "I take it you're one of Allison's workers?"

House smirked. Oh, but this would be fun. "They pay me in food and board and everything. When I'm bad, they even whip me and make me tell them that I'll be a good nigg-"

"Richard, this is Dr. House," Cameron cut in. "He's the head of Diagnostics here at Princeton-Plainsboro." She gave House a look that practically begged him to stay in line. "Dr. House, this is Richard Markham."

"The ex," House commented, studying the man with a keen eye.

"Allison's spoken of me, then?"

"All the time," House drawled, crossing his arms over his chest. "I hear you're rotten in the sa-."

"Richard," Cameron cut in again. "Might I inquire as to why you're visiting me at work?"

"I've been trying to reach you by phone," Richard drawled boredly. "But you weren't answering. I figured this was the best place to find you, seeing as how you work all of the time." He made a face that showed that he clearly turned his nose up to such things.

"That would be my fault," House said with a small smile. He reached into his pocket and grabbed his cell phone, which was identical to Cameron's. "She left it at my place last night." He tossed the phone to her. "Couldn't answer it if she couldn't hear it ringing."

Richard quirked an eyebrow and turned to Cameron. "Having an affair with your underling?"

"Dr. House isn't my underling," she commented, flipping open the phone and pretending to check missed calls. "He's my colleague. And it ceased to be an affair when I filed for divorce," she commented with a smile. "So sorry I missed your calls… Must be something important for you to come all the way to the hospital."

Richard frowned. "I would prefer to discuss this without your current lover in the room."

"Too bad," House commented, standing and crossing to Cameron, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her in close to him. "Anything you have to say to Allison, you have to say to me. It's really that simple, _Dick_."

"I prefer _Richard_."

"I'm sure."

"Gentlemen." Cameron leaned into House, hand resting on his chest and head resting near his shoulder. "What was it you needed to speak to me about, Richard?"

"Mother doesn't want Lydia," he drawled, sounding rich, snotty, and bored out of his mind. "She suggest that you take Lydia, as you picked her out."

Cameron frowned. "You came to my work to bother me about the _dog_?" she asked with a quirked eyebrow.

"That's only a portion of it. My lawyer has suggested a mediation session so as to keep this nice and quiet. Wouldn't want the family in an uproarish scandal, you know."

"Richard, a divorce is hardly a scandal," Cameron commented. "We don't need a mediation session; you just need to listen to what I want."

"Yes, always what you want, isn't it?" Richard asked airily.

House frowned and tightened his hold on Cameron. "Funny…" he said, eyes glaring daggers at Cameron's ex-husband. "Allison doesn't strike me as a very selfish person. Matter of fact, she gives a lot. She gives her time, she gives her money, she gives great hea-."

"Greg," Cameron snapped.

House smirked and leaned down, placing a kiss on Cameron's exposed neck. "You know I'm only joking," he murmured into her ear.

A shiver ran down her spine and she felt his lips play lightly at her earlobe before retracting. She swallowed and cleared her throat, giving Richard the same polite smile he'd given her earlier. "No mediation sessions, Richard. I want at least one quarter of the money; I've earned it spending six years with you when I could have had someone like Greg."

"How low," Richard sneered. "I'd thought that you loved me."

"I'd thought that, too," Cameron commented softly. "But you weren't who I'd made you out to be, Richard. I deserve compensation for the years of emotional brutality I spent with you."

"Emotional brutality!" Richard exclaimed. "I bought you anything you wanted! I gave you emeralds for your birthday!"

"All the riches in the world can't buy a woman," House jumped in, the hand around Cameron's waist going down to rest on her hip and play there, twisting her shirt so that he could feel the skin beneath it. "If you don't treat her right, she's not going to stay with you."

"Yes, you look like quite the debonair man with that cane," Richard spat.

House held up his cane. "Oh, this?" He caught Cameron's eye and winked. "It's a lot handier than you give it credit for."

Cameron blushed and grinned, and Richard stormed toward the door. "You'll be hearing from my lawyer, Allison!"

"I expect as much," she replied in a mutter, not quite sure that he'd heard her.

When he was gone, House went back to his desk and sat there as if nothing had happened. Cameron watched him with wide eyes. Her skin still tingled where he'd had his hand… Her face was still flushed from his innuendo about the cane… Oh, God.

She was falling for Greg House all over again.


	4. Chapter 4

Cameron had a meeting with Cuddy a few days after Richard's visit. They discussed departmental concerns, as well as how Cameron was doing as House's advisor. She admitted that it was difficult at times, but that she had everything under control. Cuddy was glad, and admittedly proud, that Cameron could hold down the fort and sat back at her desk and smiled warmly.

"I'm glad that I hired you back," she admitted freely. "I knew we could use a new head of Internal Medicine and I knew that you had a great set of references behind you."

Cameron smiled, crossing her hands loosely in her lap. "I was admittedly surprised when you called me for the hire. I thought you might call Dr. Chase in, especially since he went on to head Intensive Care over at Mayo; he was a perfect candidate."

Cuddy shrugged. "I wanted someone who I knew I could count on. Dr. Chase, however stunning his recommendations and experiences may have been, isn't reliable when it comes right down to it. And Dr. Foreman's gone on to bigger and better things heading up Neurology at Hopkins. The three of you all went on to do great things. You were the best candidate to bring back."

"Thank you," Cameron replied modestly, a small, happy flush on her cheeks. "I was particularly surprised to be put on the board of directors."

"You've grown quite the backbone. House has been obsessed with finding out why; all I care about is that it's there."

Cameron frowned. "He's been obsessed with finding out why, has he?"

Cuddy smirked. "Of course he has. His little duckling's come back all grown up. Bigger and badder than before. He's intrigued."

"Yes, House is intrigued by a lot of things, isn't he?" She studied her nails and delicately picked nonexistent dirt out from under them. "I'm surprised that he's so obsessed with it, though. I was under the impression that he didn't care about me one way or the other."

A knowing look settled onto Cuddy's face and she sat back in her chair. "You don't really believe that, do you?"

"Of course I do," Cameron stated with a shrug. "He repeatedly turned me down when I worked for him and fell out of touch as soon as he possibly could once I'd left. I e-mailed him to keep him updated on my work, at least, and never got a return message. I assumed, quite naturally, that he'd moved on to his new batch of workers."

"His falling out of touch with you explains how he was unaware that you'd remarried," Cuddy commented cautiously. "I'd heard about it and was surprised when you didn't send him an invitation. Or Wilson, for that matter. You two were pretty close when you worked here."

Cameron sighed and tapped her polished fingernails on the arm of the chair that she was seated in. "We both had busy schedules and fell out of touch by the time Richard asked me to marry him. I didn't think it was very kosher to send a wedding invitation to someone I hadn't spoken to in over two years." She smiled and shrugged. "We've caught up now, though, and I suppose that's really all that matters."

"I guess," Cuddy responded with a small smile of her own. She checked her watch and sighed, reaching into one of her desk drawers and grabbing her purse. "Sorry to have to cut this short, but I need to pick up my daughter from school."

"Daughter?" Cameron asked with a wide smile. "So you _did_ wind up getting pregnant. Congratulations."

Cuddy laughed, standing and slinging her purse over her arm. "Thanks. Her name's Ruth and she's the most perfect little girl."

"Are you raising her on your own? I didn't hear that you'd gotten married." She paused and realized her possible faux pa. She gave a small laugh. "Not that there's anything wrong with that…" she added hastily.

With a grin, Cuddy patted Cameron on the back. "I'm a single, workaholic mother and I love it," she responded happily. "Now I'm off to go pick up Ruth. Have a nice day, Dr. Cameron."

Cameron gave Cuddy a genuine, happy smile. "You, too, Dr. Cuddy."

It took Cameron the rest of the day to finish up small, managerial things that she'd really rather not be doing. She'd meant to talk to House before lunch about his little puzzle-solving obsession, but hadn't gotten the chance to, thanks to little things that kept her busy. By four in the afternoon, she'd signed so many papers that she thought her eyes might cross if she had to sign her name one more time. So she headed down to Diagnostics to be sure that House was doing his job.

She stopped at his office and saw him there, bouncing an over-sized tennis ball off of a wall and catching it, a thoughtful frown gracing his features. It occurred to her that he was probably thinking and that she shouldn't disturb him, but damn it. She needed to tell him to back the hell off. So she opened the door to his office and poked her head in. "How's the case coming along?" she asked with a quirked eyebrow.

House turned his head as he caught the ball he'd been bouncing. "Badly," he admitted in a clipped tone before tossing the ball at the wall once more.

"How badly are we talking?" Cameron asked with a frown. "Do I need to call in another doctor for a consult?"

House gave a severe frown. "I know how to solve a case, Cameron," he snapped. "I just need more time."

"Well you don't _have_ more time, Dr. House. Your patient is in critical condition and if you don't-"

"You think I don't know this?" he growled angrily. "If you'd pull your head out of your rich little ass for two seconds, you'd remember that I always know the status of my patients."

"_I_ need to pull my head out of my ass?" she asked with a small, insulted laugh. "That's grand, coming from the infamously assholic Dr. House."

"Assholic? Is that even a word?" He set the ball down and turned his chair so that he faced Cameron. "I'm trying to think; get out of my office."

"Ha! You want me to leave you be when you denied all requests of mine? I don't think so." She approached his desk and settled her hands on it, leaning in so that her face was mere inches from him. "Get off of your ass and go deal with your patient. Sitting here isn't going to do anything for you. You need to make a connection and you need to make it fast, because if this patient dies, I'm writing you up for physician neglect."

He glared at her. "Threats, Cameron? How sweet. I'm not your ex and the puny intimidation tactics that you attempt aren't going to work on me."

"That isn't a threat, Dr. House. I'm _going_ to write you up if this patient dies. It will be the third one this year, and that just can't happen anymore. Your means for treating a patient are absolutely ridiculous, even if they _do_ work most of the time. Most of the time isn't all of the time, and-"

"Shut up," he told her calmly. "Just shut your pretty little mouth and get out. I'll make the connections my own way."

"I'm your _boss_."

"I don't _care_." He stood and leaned on his cane, glaring angrily at her. "You're not really my boss, you know. You're playing the part of it. Now, if you want me to do my job, you'll get the hell out of my office. If you want to spend the rest of the afternoon arguing with me, then by all means, stay here."

Cameron frowned and crossed her arms over her chest. "I'm just playing the part of your boss?" she asked sweetly. "In that case, I'll just 'play the part' of marching down to the board of directors and throwing you to their mercy. As a matter of fact, I'll even just 'play the part' of writing you up for insubordination and giving your file to Cuddy so that she can sign off on you being fired. I am completely okay with that."

For a moment, he really believed that she'd do it. The icy glare that he got from her _was_ intimidating; he wouldn't deny that. But he'd be damned if he was going to let her win this. "You wouldn't dare," he whispered. He had to whisper to keep himself from yelling at her. Who did she think she was to march in here and threaten to fire him? Well … besides the head of Internal Medicine and a director on the board.

"Don't try me," she said slowly, punctuating her words for emphasis. "Now get your ass to the patient's room and figure out what's wrong before he dies."

"Did Richard like that bossy quality you've developed?" House sneered. "Or did he hate it just as much as I do?"

"You only hate it because you don't know how to respond to it," Cameron snapped. "You don't even know what to make of it." House's eyes narrowed and Cameron smirked. "Oh, I had a bit of a chat with Dr. Cuddy. Your … _obsession_ with my current 'bitchy' status has everyone asking questions. People are speculating… You aren't doing a whole lot for your lonely, misanthropic reputation, Dr. House."

"You say that like I should give a damn."

"Go deal with your patient, House."

"I _am_, Cameron."

"No, you're not," she stood her ground. "You're hiding from the problem by sitting in your office and berating yourself for not solving this as quickly as you ought to be able to. You aren't thinking; you aren't even working. You're just sitting in here, trying to convince yourself that you really _do_ know the problem even though you really _don't_." Her anger and frustration with him grew as he simply gave her a bored look. "Fine," she whispered. "_Fine_. I'm going to write you up. Hope you find a new job."

When she turned on her heel and stormed toward the door, House moved quickly to stop her by grabbing her wrist. "You couldn't analyze me ten years ago, and you certainly can't do it now," he told her heatedly. "You think marrying into money makes you better than you used to be? Newsflash: it doesn't."

"You think that I think marrying into money makes me better than I used to be?" she asked with a cold laugh. "You don't know the first thing about me; you never did, really."

"You _do_ think you're better than everyone else," House argued. "You snub everyone and stick your nose in the air as high as it'll go. You treat everyone like they're beneath you and all because you married some rich guy with a stick up his ass."

"No," Cameron snapped, yanking her wrist out of his hand. "I treat everyone like they're beneath me because they _are_. _I'm_ the head of Internal Medicine. _I'm_ sitting on the board of directors. And you're still here in your office, playing with your juvenile toys and using your juvenile tactics to get information out of patients. I've moved up the professional ladder and you've sat on your step ladder, hoping for a break."

House watched her, stunned by her words. He was surprised by her angry little outburst and amazed that what she'd said had serious anger behind it. "You are one hell of a bitch, you know that?"

"Thank you for the compliment," she snapped. "I'd rather be a bitch than a weakling any day."

"That's the spirit," he sneered. "Hate everyone. Feels good, doesn't it?"

"Go to hell," she said through gritted teeth.

"Be angry," he continued, staring her down with his intense gaze. "Be bitter and insulted and irate. Take one look at a person and decide that he's the one you'll cut down today."

"I'm not you."

"You're doing a damned good impression. Want a Vicodin?" he asked, taking the bottle out of his jacket pocket and shaking it at her. "They're tasty and they take the edge off."

She grabbed the bottle out of his hand and threw it hard against the wall. Pills scattered all over the floor and she turned on House. "I have every right to be _bitter_," she hissed at him. "_Every. Right_. My husband was great in the beginning of our marriage and grew to hate me because I was independent and because I refused to stop doing my job just to keep him happy. I refused to be a trophy and that pissed him off. You have a permanent scar in your leg; I have a permanent scar on my emotions. The difference is that narcotics can't take away _my_ pain."

"Self-pity's fun, too, isn't it?" he asked her grimly. "You don't want to think that anyone else in the world can share your pain; that you're the only one who could possibly be hurting so badly."

"Stop comparing me to you," she growled. "I'm not the same as you."

"You don't want to believe it, but you are. You accuse me of hiding out in my office while you're doing your own little game of hide-and-seek, yourself. I hide in my office; you hide behind this façade of the strong, wronged woman." He smirked when she clenched her jaw and her fists. "You must be so angry to know that you're no better than the old, bitter cripple who hides in his office. That must just _kill_ you inside."

"You're wrong…" she whispered, shaking her head in denial. "I haven't become a thing like you…" Her hands were shaking and she backed away from him slowly, breathing deeply to keep herself from falling into a full-blown anxiety attack. "You're so wrong…"

"I'm right," he sneered, advancing as she retreated. "You know it and it scares the piss out of you." With every step she took back, he took forward until he had her cornered against a file cabinet. Her eyes searched wildly for an escape and she dodge to the right, thwarted by his cane against the wall. She dodged to the left, thwarted by his arm. "Gotcha."

"I need to go," she said. She tried to keep her voice strong, but even she could hear it shaking. And if she could hear it, she was sure House was bound to capitalize on it. "I have work to do."

"It can't be too horribly important since you've spent so much time down here berating me about that whole not doing my job thing." He noticed that she looked like a cornered rabbit and his eyes lit up with a predatory glint. "Scared?"

"Annoyed," she said, pursing her lips. "Let me go."

"No. I don't want to. I sort of like you here, actually." He liked seeing her trying to cover things up and failing at it; was that so wrong?

"Dr. House, I'm not going to ask again," she said with a glare. "Move or I'm kicking your leg."

"Your new backbone doesn't mean you're uncaring," he told her, his voice quiet, but stern. "You're not going to kick my leg out from under me. You're not going to do anything mean because you still don't have it in you to do so. You're stronger. You're gutsier. You're more assertive than ever before. But you still have a heart."

"Which is exactly why I'm not at all like you," she snapped. The phrase was meant to cut, to hurt, to devastate.

"Oh, I have a heart. It's just not worn on my sleeve, like yours still is."

"It's broken, not out for everyone to see," she defended.

"Everyone can see that it's broken, Cameron," he said with a frown. "_Everyone can see it_. No matter how much you try to hide."

"And everyone can see how broken _you_ are," Cameron responded with a snarl. "Everyone can see how you try to cover it with snide remarks and cool intellect. You're not fooling people anymore than I am."

"I've had more practice."

"I'm better at it."

"Liar."

"Hypocrite."

"Bitch."

"Bastard."

He moved his left hand to grip her hair, yanking her head back and crashing his lips hard on hers. If she'd asked why he did it, he wouldn't be able to answer her. He wanted to shut her up. He wanted her to stop having a comeback; no more witty retorts from her. He wanted her the way she was now and the way she'd been before. He wanted her, and really, that was the fact of the matter.

When his lips came down on hers, she had every intention of biting his lip and getting away from him and going back to her office to hide away, just like he'd been doing. But God… _God_ it had been so long since she'd had any sort of passionate embrace. And with the way he was forcing his tongue into her mouth, forcing her to react, and forcing her to whimper when he bit down on her bottom lip, she wasn't going anywhere at the moment. She reached out and grabbed hold of his lapels, pulling him roughly to her.

His leg gave and he fell into her, pushing her hard into the filing cabinet behind her. She moaned in pain and delight and her fingers curled around the nape of his neck, pulling him in as she devoured his mouth in return. There was no way she was letting his pain ruin this experience for her; not right now. She was _allowed_ to be selfish every once in a while, and with the way he was scraping his teeth over her tongue as she twirled it with his, she didn't think he was all that aware of any pain right now, anyway.

He growled low in his throat and took hold of her hips, yanking her forward a bit so that her hips aligned with his. He ripped his mouth away from hers and left a series of hot, furious kisses along the column of her delicate little throat. His stubble burned an angry red against her skin, and his teeth scraped. He wanted to mark her; to get beneath that cold, now-rich exterior and make her realize that she was still a lowly worker on the inside, just like him. When he heard her give a strangled moan, he sucked at the base of her dainty little neck.

"Oh, God…" she mewled, hands moving to his back.

He could feel her perfectly manicured nails biting into his suit jacket and it drove him insane. He pushed her hips back away from his, shoving her into the filing cabinet and pulling his lips away from her neck. Both of them were breathing erratically, and his eyes burned into hers. "You're just the same as me," he growled, panting for air.

Finally, she conceded, giving him a look of awe and defeat. "I'm just the same as you."


	5. Chapter 5

Later on in the week, there was a noted awkwardness between House and Cameron. They avoided each other as much as possible, each for their own reasons. House avoided Cameron so that he didn't pin her to his desk. Cameron avoided House so that she wouldn't blush furiously around him and pin him to her desk. When they did see each other, they muttered what had to be said and left soon afterwards.

All would have been fine if it hadn't been for Richard, who decided that he just needed to visit Allison once more at work. She was sitting in House's office, going over his recent case, when Richard walked in as if he owned the entire hospital.

House looked up and glared. Cameron looked up and tried not to groan. "Richard?" she asked with a frown as she stood. "What brings you here?"

"You aren't answering my calls again," he stated flatly. "I can't begin to work out this settlement if you don't answer my calls."

Cameron frowned and House quirked an eyebrow. "I thought your lawyers were taking care of this, Allison," he said from his desk. After all, he was still playing the part of her lover in front of Richard, wasn't he?

"They're supposed to be," Cameron replied slowly. She turned to Richard and cocked her head to the side. "Why are you here instead of having your lawyer call mine?"

Richard sighed and gave Cameron a sweet, charming smile that almost made House gag. Suddenly, House could start seeing why Cameron fell for this guy. "Allison, darling, can't we just make this nice? It will take less time if we just work this out between the two of us."

"Richard, I just don't think that's for the best," Cameron replied quietly. "It's best if we both stay away from each other while we go through this settlement."

House watched as Richard reached out and brushed a strand of Cameron's hair out of her eyes. "I didn't want this to hurt either of us to this extent," he murmured to her. "Look at us; arguing like children every chance we get. It can't be good for either of us, darling."

Cameron's eyes turned soft and House's hand tightened around his cane. Who the hell did Richard think he was, coming in here and trying to seduce Cameron into doing what he wanted? And what the hell was wrong with House's new, bitchy Cameron? She was _smiling_ at that rich, manipulative idiot. She was smiling at him and when he reached out to brush his hand against her cheek, she leaned into it.

Enough was enough, House thought with a snarl as he gripped his cane and pushed himself out of his chair. He moved to Cameron and wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her close to him. "I think you should go," he said slowly to Richard, his voice threatening.

Richard turned that same charming smile to House. "I think Allison can speak for herself," he said calmly before turning back to Cameron. "Can't we just sit down over dinner one night and discuss this?" he coaxed.

Frowning severely, House tightened his grasp on Cameron, giving up his cane to stand behind her and wrap both arms around her. Perhaps he was being a bit territorial, but damn it. He wasn't going to watch Cameron fall for Richie McRichy-Rich all over again; that was ridiculous. He leaned down and whispered into her ear, loudly enough for Richard to overhear, "We have plans this week, remember? My birthday."

When she felt his breath flowing down her neck, she shivered. House must have caught the shiver, she figured, because he nibbled at her earlobe. "Your birthday…" she murmured, eyes fluttering with the intent to close as she leaned lightly into his embrace.

"Yes. Remember?" he asked her, dropping the pitch of his voice and running his hands lightly over her stomach. "We'd planned on going out to that little cottage for the weekend." He let his tongue flick out to catch the outer shell of her ear.

"Oh… The cottage…"

Richard watched with an angry flush. "Allison," he said snappishly. "Dinner?"

"I'm…" House's hands moved to settle on her hips and he pressed a series of kisses along her neck. "…busy…"

"I'm relatively certain that the two of you aren't engaging in work-appropriate activities right now," Richard said coolly.

House smirked against Cameron's neck and nipped at it. "We usually don't," he commented easily. "But as long as it doesn't interfere with work, no one minds. Right, Allison?"

"Uh-huh," was all Cameron could manage, and even that was difficult. His hands were burning into her skin, even though they were just sitting on her hips. And his breath against her skin made her shiver.

"Tell Richard here that your lawyer will contact his, pet," House murmured into her ear. His lips brushed the sensitive skin beneath her ear as he spoke.

Cameron looked at Richard with glazed-over eyes. "My lawyer will contact yours," she said softly.

Fuming, Richard turned on his heel and stomped out. House smirked, watching the man storm away. He brushed another kiss across her skin before slowly letting her go.

She gulped. "You called me your pet," she whispered.

"I _am_ supposed to be your lover when Richard comes around, right?" he asked innocently. "Lovers have pet names for each other. Right, pet?"

"You don't… You didn't have to…"

"I find that I'm amazed by how responsive you are just to a few kisses and touches," he told her with a small smirk. "There a reason for that?"

Again, she gulped. This time, she moved to sit in the chair she'd been in before Richard had surprised them. "I haven't had sex in two years," she admitted sadly. "I haven't had good sex in five years."

House's eyes widened. "Good. Lord."

Cameron nodded. "It… Richard was great in bed at first. And then things just got systematic. Three times per week, forty-five minutes each time."

He was stunned. "Why did you stay in the marriage with him?" he asked curiously. "If the sex was so bad…"

She sighed and rubbed a hand tiredly over her eyes. "Relationships aren't all about sex," she said quietly. "Richard and I got along well and he was very sweet. I had my reasons for staying."

"But you're not going to tell me them."

"No."

He smirked. "I could seduce them out of you."

She laughed. "You couldn't," she said before yawning and covering her mouth with her hand. "No matter how sexually deprived I may be." She checked her watch and gave in. "I'm going home for the evening," she informed House. "You can stay here and finish up whatever it is you have left to-"

"Why don't I come with you?" he asked nonchalantly. "You're too tired to be driving on your own and you've gone through an emotional rollercoaster in the past hour. I'd hate for you to crash."

Cameron quirked her eyebrow. "I think not," she replied in a drawl. "I'd rather you didn't know where I was living, actually. Thank you kindly for the offer."

"Afraid I might stalk you?" he snarked.

"Yes, actually. Knowing you, you'd stand outside my window at night and call for me until I answered the door. Then, being you, you'd tell me you wanted a beer."

"Oh, please. If I were going to stand outside your window at night, I'd want hot, angry, torrid sex. Not a beer."

She blinked and took in a quick breath. "Yeah. I'm leaving. I'll see you tomorrow, Dr. House."

He reached out and took her wrist gently in his hand. "How have you been sleeping with all of the stress?" he asked, sounding concerned.

The concern in his voice made Cameron slightly suspicious, but she went along with it. He probably had a ploy in there somewhere, but she was just too worn out to bother being on guard about it. "Not really well. I've been taking some Tylenol PM if I can't get to sleep by one in the morning."

His thumb caressed the inside of her wrist, and he could hear her slight intake of breath. "I could make sure you get to sleep early," he offered with a small smirk.

She gave him a small, catlike grin. "If I were to take you up on that offer, you would be stunned."

"Not stunned so much as very, very thankful."

With a smirk, she decided to turn the tables. She took his hand in hers and brought it to her lips, sucking lightly on the tip of his middle finger. "I could seduce you instead," she told him, her voice dropping to a sultry tone. When she was sure she had his attention, she smirked at him and dropped his hand. "But I'm a woman of status, and I don't do such things." She turned and left his office, tossing a, "Goodbye, Doctor House," behind her.

He watched her go with a thoughtful glare. The game was on, now. And he had a very good feeling that he'd be coming out the victor.

Three days later, House hadn't made a move. Cameron was starting to get a bit worried, thinking that he'd decided to back down from her challenge. Of course, what else could she expect? It wasn't as though he was actually attracted to her, right? He was putting on a façade for when Richard came. The rest of his comments were just made to make her uncomfortable; that was how House worked. It was how he'd always worked.

She sat at her desk, reading through piles of paperwork and wishing that she could just go home for the day. Richard had called her last night concerning something or other… She couldn't even remember, it had been so insignificant. She'd been up into the early hours of the morning arguing with him about it, too. She'd grabbed a hot coffee on the way to work and chugged it in the car before she was even halfway there. Now, she was waiting for more coffee to brew; she'd already had an entire pot.

She didn't feel so bad, though, as the door to her office opened. It was nearing one in the afternoon, after all, so polishing off a pot of coffee wasn't horrible… She looked up as House entered her office.

He plopped a file down on her desk and frowned, dropping into the seat across from her. "Sign that."

She glanced at the file before pushing it back toward him. "Not if I don't know what it is, House."

"It's a release for me to do a procedure on a patient."

Cameron snatched up the file and skimmed it before frowning at him. "You want to give a new heart to a woman with lung cancer? I know that you went to med school and I'm pretty sure you're aware that the heart is not the organ affected by lung cancer."

House rolled his eyes and tapped his cane irritably on the floor. "She needs a new heart so that she can be strong enough for us to treat the tumors."

"This is all very fascinating, but it sounds suspiciously like something for oncology," Cameron drawled, sitting back in her seat. "Why do you have the case?"

"It was referred to me," he said simply.

"House."

"What? You asked why I have the case, and I-"

"Stop being a smartass," she snapped. "What's wrong with the woman that she needs a new heart? And don't try to play me with your bull about it being about the tumors. You forget that I once worked for you; I know your game."

He frowned and crossed his arms over his chest. "She needs a heart. What more do you want?"

"A reason to give her one?" Cameron asked with an annoyed frown. "House, you know I can't sign off on this just because she needs it. I have to take into consideration a multitude of variables and-"

"I know the jig," he drawled. "Even if I can't dance it. You know … bum leg and all."

She gave a sigh and pulled the file back to her, looking through it for the information that she wanted. What she saw stunned her; it almost appalled her. "This woman is in her latter sixties and you want me to approve a heart transplant?" she asked. "She's suffered from not only her current lung cancer, but breast cancer and a brain tumor, as well."

"Those two were cleared," House pointed out. "Besides, the heart has nothing to do with the cancer. It's got a lot to do with the heart worms that she has."

"Heart worms?" Cameron asked, obviously not believing him. "Put her on anti-"

"Won't work," House cut in. "Heart's not strong enough to take them anymore. We tried."

"I can't approve this transplant, House. I can't."

"She's got a life, Cameron," House said with a severe frown. "She's got a damned good life and by refusing her that heart, you're ruining the whole thing."

"Oh, stop trying to make me feel bad," she snapped in return, pushing her chair back from her desk and standing angrily. "You seem to be under the false impression that I continue to be the same person that I was ten years ago. I'll kindly inform you, Dr. House, that I've grown by leaps and bounds in the past decade or so, and trying to guilt me into giving this woman a heart isn't going to work." She paused long enough to move to the front of her desk and perch herself on the edge of it. "If you honestly think that I'd give a heart to a woman dying of terminal cancer when it could go to a young man who happens to be perfectly healthy, your view of me is seriously skewed."

"And the princess comes out to play again," he drawled slowly, watching her as she quirked an eyebrow at him. "Feel good to tell me no?" he asked innocently.

"Feels wonderful," she said sweetly, crossing her arms over her chest. "As a matter of fact, I think I'll even say it more than once. No, I'm not consenting for this procedure to take place. No, I'm not going to deliver the news to your patient. And no, you're not getting out of clinic duty this week." She smirked and stood, pacing around his chair slowly. She reminded him of a vulture. "You know, this _does_ feel rather nice… No, you can't do any more MRI or CAT scans for your current patient. No, you can't have extra time for lunch. No, you can't make your Fellows do your grunt-work."

House's jaw tightened and his fists clenched as Cameron continued on her little tirade. He'd let her have her fun before he brought her off of her high horse.

"You can't speak to the nurses, you can't use Wilson's office for your hideaway spot, and you can't eat in coma patients' rooms."

"Any other restrictions, boss?" he asked through gritted teeth.

She stopped in front of his chair and placed her hands on the arms, leaning in so that her face was mere inches from his. "You can't touch me."

Good. She'd taken the bait. He didn't care if she was speaking metaphorically or literally; he was going to prove her wrong. "See … that's where you're wrong, Princess." His arm shot out and grabbed her around the waist, pulling her so that she landed hard on his left leg. Didn't bother him; his right leg was injured, not his left. When she opened her mouth to yell at him, he gripped the back of her neck hard and slammed his lips to hers for a bruising kiss. She struggled against him, but his arms clenched around her and held her close until, ever-so-hesitantly, he felt her tongue moving to entwine with his.

She couldn't deny him. It was something she was becoming more and more aware of. She could shoot him down when it came to treatments for his patients. She could tell him he wasn't allowed to do something and feel just fine with herself afterwards. But to deny him her body, to deny him her lips and her tongue and her taste, and to deny herself the reciprocal, was something that she couldn't bear to do. It was a mortal sin, punishable by burning in Hell. Of course, she was already burning as it was with his hands on her body, his lips on her neck, his pants for breath in her ear. And she realized at that moment that, while she still refused to give up information regarding her sham of a marriage and increasingly difficult divorce, she would never refuse these hot moments of passion between them.

Damn Greg House to hell and back for the things he was doing to her. She growled low in her throat and shifted so that she straddled him, hands cradling his face as she switched the angle of the kiss. "I hate you," she hissed at him, nipping hard on his bottom lip and drawing a moan out of him. "I hate you for this."

"You hate me and you love this," he growled in return, hands gripping her hips to be sure she didn't jar his thigh and ruin this passionate moment. "I make you feel like a woman again."

"You make me feel like a hussy."

"Hussy?" he asked with a snicker, teeth scraping down her throat and pulling a whimper from her. "I make you hot."

She let out another whimper as her eyes slid shut. Her head dropped back to give him better access and he attacked the tender skin he found by biting, nipping, kissing, rubbing the rough stubble on his chin over it. Angry red marks were left in place.

"I make you wet, Princess," he growled into her ear. "Admit it."

"Fuck you."

"Gladly," he retorted, one hand moving to her lower back and yanking her closer so that her pelvis lined up with his. "Tell me something, Allison. Tell me why you fell for Richard."

She gave a soft moan with a strangled cry when he rubbed his pelvis against hers. Her pants were so damned thin that she felt everything. Every little movement he made. Damn him. "Forget it," she gasped. "I'm not telling."

"I can get you to tell," House whispered into her ear, nipping on the lobe. His hands gripped her ass and pulled her hard against him, causing her to gasp. "_Tell me_."

"He was…" She hung her head so that her forehead rested on House's shoulder as he assaulted her neck once more. "He was…"

"He was what?"

"He was…"

The door to the office opened and Cameron shot up, practically leaping off of House's lap. He was impressed that she'd managed to do it without hitting his bad leg too hard. Hell, he was impressed that she'd managed to do it at all. Behind him, he heard a man clearing his throat.

"Um … sorry to … ah … interrupt…" Wilson's voice resounded. House could hear the grin in it.

Cameron blushed and straightened her hair. "You're not interrupting anything," she said after clearing her throat.

"Right…" House added slowly, turning to give Wilson a smirk. "Nothing at all."

Wilson gave in and grinned, winking at Cameron. "Just stopped by to let you know that St. Jude's called to confirm your reservation at their charity dinner next month. They called to ask me, and when I told them that you worked here, they asked if I could pass on the message that you call them."

"Right," she responded, bending over her desk to write herself a note. "Thank you."

"Welcome," Wilson said with a knowing smile. "Oh, and by the way? The pool's up that you two are going to screw by the end of the year. Just letting you know."


	6. Chapter 6

Two days before the benefit for St. Jude's Children's Hospital showed an extremely frantic Allison Cameron. She'd discovered that Richard was going to be at the benefit … with his new trophy. This meant that she had to find someone to go with, or she'd look like the spurned lover and that just didn't sit well with her. Wilson couldn't go with her; he was taking Cuddy. No surprise there. She'd almost sunk so low as to ask one of House's fellows, but that was a last resort.

As House passed her in the hallway, she grabbed hold of his wrist. "Saturday night," she said quickly. "What are you doing?"

House glanced down at where Cameron's hand held onto his wrist and quirked an eyebrow. "Buying a hooker and getting drunk. How about you?"

She rolled her eyes. "Cancel the hooker. You can still get drunk. I need someone to come to the St. Jude's benefit with me."

He laughed. "Hell no."

"Please?" she asked in a slight whine. "Richard's going to be there and you're supposed to be pretending to be my lover _anyway_, so it would only make sense if you were there with me."

"Cameron, I'm not going to that damned benefit. The only people there will be ones that I can't stand. Forget it."

"I'll pay you," she blurted.

His eyes darkened and he clenched his fist, pulling his wrist out of her grasp. "Keep your money, Princess," he growled.

"House, please. I simply can't go to this thing alone."

"Then don't go at all. I don't see what the big deal is."

"I have to go. I promised. I paid for two seats because I thought I'd find someone by now, and…" She sighed and shook her head. "Never mind. It was stupid of me to ask."

"Trying reverse psychology?" he asked with a smirk.

"I'd never," she drawled, turning to walk back to her office. "I'll just go by myself and you won't get to grope me in front of my ex-husband. It's fine."

House rolled his eyes. "What's in it for me?" he asked. "Well … besides the pleasure of groping you."

She gave a small laugh. "Free alcohol?"

"Getting there."

"Free range on bothering the hell out of aristocrats? I'll pay for your tux."

"You've got a deal."

House was surprised when he picked Cameron up that night. First of all, she didn't live in her old apartment anymore; she lived in a huge house in the nicer part of town. He rang the doorbell and smirked when a maid answered and let him in. At least ten comments about Cameron owning slaves popped into his head, but they vanished when she came striding into the living room and addressed the maid. She must not have seen him; she looked a bit concerned.

"Sylvia, have you seen my pearl necklace?" she asked with a frown as she pushed an earring into her earlobe. "It isn't in my jewelry box and it isn't on my necklace rack. Did you move it when you cleaned?"

"No, ma'am," Sylvia answered. "Did you check in your personals drawer? I seem to recall you putting your more expensive items there."

"Oh, no. I didn't think to check…" Cameron turned to go back up the spiraling staircase that she'd come down.

"Ma'am," Sylvia interrupted with a smile. "Your escort for the evening is here."

"He's here already?" she asked, turning to look at a grandfather clock. "Did you show him into the den, then?"

House smirked. "I'm right here," he called from the foyer, letting out a chuckle when Cameron jumped and turned toward the sound of his voice.

"I didn't expect you'd be early," she admitted with a faint smile. "I haven't even gotten my dress on yet."

He shrugged and leaned against the door behind him. "I can wait. I could go ahead and get lost in your house. Can't say I expected you to buy yourself a mansion."

Cameron rolled her eyes and leaned against the staircase railing. "I didn't buy it," she commented. "I kicked Richard out and kept it for myself. Right, Sylvia?" she asked the maid with a triumphant grin.

Sylvia grinned right back. "Too right, ma'am. My husband thoroughly enjoyed tossing his bags outside."

"Go ahead and show Dr. House into the den. Give him a drink if he wants. I'll go finish getting ready." She turned and jogged up the staircase, leaving House with Sylvia.

With a friendly smile, Sylvia motioned for House to follow her. "If you'll just follow me, Doctor."

"Sure." He was led down a long hallway filled with both classical and modern art. There were a few plants here and there placed on fashionable end tables. He felt like he was in the home of one of his father's colleagues, and he wasn't at all comfortable with the feeling. But he got over it when he was shown into the 'den.' It was a living room with a fireplace, he thought. Dens were a thing of the past. But then, this antique house wasn't exactly from the latest century.

"Would you like anything to drink, Doctor?"

"Uh… No. I'm fine, thanks." Sylvia turned to leave, but House stopped her with a frown. "Cameron's not the type to keep maids around," he commented.

Sylvia crossed her hands loosely in front of her and gave House a gentle smile. "Mrs. Markham … well … formerly Mrs. Markham felt it was unfair to put us out of our jobs just because she and Mr. Markham had marital issues. She kept my husband and me, as well as the cook and the part-time interior decorator. When you have an estate this size, it's fashionable to change its design every six months or so."

"Sounds like a waste of money to me," House commented, looking around the large room.

"Some might think so. But I don't think Mrs.…" Sylvia let out a small laugh. "Dr. Cameron couldn't stand putting someone out of a job, no matter how marketable they may be."

"She's got a soft heart. Always had one."

"My husband and I try to tell her that it will get her into trouble eventually, but she just doesn't listen."

House smirked. "She understands. She just doesn't care."

Sylvia grinned. "I hope you won't mind my asking, Dr. House, but … why, exactly, are you taking Dr. Cameron to this benefit?"

"To make the ex insanely jealous. And because I get to grope her. Really, what more could a man want?" He sat down in one of the chairs and leaned his cane on the side of it.

"I hate to sound too forward, but I feel the need to warn you… If you hurt Dr. Cameron's feelings, you'll have this entire house out after you. She's been through enough heartache as it is."

House frowned and took hold of his cane, tapping it evenly on the floor. "I don't know a whole lot about the heartache. She won't talk about it, no matter how much I ask."

Sylvia stood across the room, wringing her hands together nervously. She checked the hallway and listened for a moment before moving closer to House. "I won't tell you too much because I'm sure she doesn't want all of her skeletons out of her closet." After taking in a deep breath and letting it out slowly, she looked around the room guiltily. "Before Dr. Cameron initiated the divorce, she and Mr. Markham got into a rather large argument. They were screaming at each other, which isn't something they made a habit of. We all heard it… Mr. Markham told Dr. Cameron that she was to choose between him and her work. When she told him that her work was a part of her and that she couldn't possibly choose between herself and him, he told her that she could take her job and … well, it wasn't exactly a phrase that you use in polite conversation."

His brow furrowed and he studied Sylvia. "Would I be right in the assumption that Cameron kicked him out after that?"

She shook her head. "Not at first. Dr. Cameron went and slept in a bedroom on the opposite side of the house from Mr. Markham. They continued to argue whenever they saw each other and she cried when she finally told him that she wanted a divorce. He was very upset and he moved to strike her. My husband intervened and Dr. Cameron kicked Mr. Markham out of the house." Sylvia's chest swelled with pride. "She's a strong, smart woman."

"I'm finding that out more and more," House commented with a small smirk. "Thanks for letting me in on the secret."

"You can't let her know that you know, of course," Sylvia said worriedly. "I'd hate for her to be upset with me."

"Mum's the word."

Sylvia smiled as she heard the click of heels. "Dr. Cameron's coming. I'll be taking my leave now." She headed for the door and stopped, turning back to House. "Take good care of her. Please?"

House gave her a curt not and she left. Cameron came in about a minute later and House stood before looking at her. Once he did, he stopped dead in his tracks. She was … gorgeous.

She wore a long, black dress made of satin. Spaghetti straps rested on her shoulders and ran in crossing patterns along her back. The pearl necklace that she'd been looking for lay loosely around her slender neck, and her hair was swept up into a knot at the back of her head with small tendrils curling downward. She noticed his dumbstruck look and smiled slightly. "Ready to go?"

He cleared his throat. "Uh … yeah. Yeah. Let's get going."

During the benefit, House got to see Cameron in her rich, debutante world. He watched her as she charmed more money out of the wealthy, as she got more time out of researchers, and as she carried on small talk with old men who just wanted to be around someone young and beautiful. The wonderful thing about it was that he got to keep his hand securely on her lower back to remind her of who was there with her.

Every so often, he would lean in and make a snide remark about someone in her ear. She would reward him with a small grin before engaging someone else in conversation about how wonderful it would be if cancer research had just a few thousand more dollars. By the time the benefit was halfway to completion, she'd managed to get somewhere between five hundred thousand and one million dollars more for St. Jude's. And he had no idea how she'd managed.

For the most part, the night was completely boring and uneventful, just like House had expected it would be. It wasn't until they were getting ready to leave that drama ensued.

As Cameron bid good-bye to a kindly old gentleman, she caught sight of Richard across the room. House felt her stiffen and followed her gaze. "Ignore him," he murmured in her ear. "You've had a great night so far. Don't let him ruin it."

"I'm not going to," she muttered back. "We're going to leave."

"Good girl." As they went to get their coats, Richard intercepted them with his date hanging on his side.

Cameron stiffened again, and House massaged the back of her neck with his fingers to calm her. "Richard," she said politely.

"Allison," Richard replied. "I see you've brought your doctor friend."

"I see you've brought your … friend," Cameron replied, looking curiously at the bottle-blonde hanging onto Richard's arm.

Said friend smiled at Cameron. "I'm Natasha Winchester," she introduced herself.

"Like the rifles?" House asked.

Natasha smiled brightly. "Precisely."

"…Aren't you supposed to be in San Jose, living in that crazy house that your ancestor built?"

Natasha's smile dimmed to a small, polite, forced one. "We don't talk about Great Aunt Sarah."

"Can't imagine why…"

Cameron held back laughter and elbowed House's side. "Greg and I were just on our way out, so if you'll excuse us…"

But Richard didn't move. "I was telling Natasha about your job," he commented with a sly smile. "She was very interested."

"Oh, yes!" Natasha exclaimed excitedly. "Richard said that you're an Immunologist. What's that about?"

House's eyes widened. This woman couldn't possibly be so stupid … could she? "Immunology," he said flatly. "Immune system."

"Oh, well, yes, I know that," the woman commented with a bright, ditzy smile. "But I mean… What do you do?"

"Ah… I study the immune system and diseases that affect it," Cameron explained. "Things like lupus, HIV/AIDS, allergies, immunosuppressant drugs…" She noted the lost look on Natasha's face. "You … don't know what that means, do you?"

"Not everyone is a doctor, Allison," Richard said coolly.

"Oh, Richard, no need to defend," Natasha said with a tinkling laugh. "I'm sure Allison's just so used to dealing with all of those smart doctors that she just doesn't remember that she's talking to the general public."

"She's even dating a doctor. Aren't you, Allison?" Richard asked with a forced smile.

"She is," House returned with a smirk, bending to drop a kiss on Cameron's exposed shoulder. "Any man who would give her up is a complete idiot."

"Ah." Not to be outdone, Richard hit below the belt. "I believe Allison used to work for you, Dr. House?"

"About a decade ago," House answered honestly.

"Doesn't that make it a bit … _odd_ for you to be dating her now?"

"Not in the least," Cameron chimed in smoothly. "Greg and I had a … small thing before I'd left Princeton-Plainsboro."

"We did," House lied just as smoothly. "When I saw her again… Well…" He grinned down at Cameron and brushed a kiss over her lips. "I realized I should have asked her to stay all along. You know, I was surprised when I found out that she was a divorcee. I can't imagine how lousy you must have been for her to leave you."

Richard's face turned red with anger. "She didn't leave me. We left each other on amiable terms."

"I wouldn't call it amiable," Cameron said flatly. "As a matter of fact, I'd call it somewhere near abusive."

Natasha's eyes widened. "Abusive?" she asked in a whisper.

"Oh, don't worry," Cameron told Natasha with a smile. "He tried to hit me once. Granted, he was quite angry… That was the final reason I left." She gave Richard a surprised look. "You mean, you didn't tell Natasha about that?"

"You little bitch," Richard hissed at Cameron.

"Yeah, she is," House said with a smirk, wrapping his arm around her waist. "Isn't it hot? Matter of fact…" He leaned down and took advantage of the fact that her neck was exposed, sliding the tip of his tongue down a line and nipping at the pale skin. "Let's get out of here." Ignoring social manners, he took hold of Cameron's hand and pulled her away from Richard and out of the benefit.


	7. Chapter 7

After the benefit, House drove Cameron back to her home in silence. He didn't press the issue of Richard and didn't want to; he'd gotten the information that he'd wanted out of the maid and out of Cameron's behavior in front of her ex and his new toy tonight. When he dropped her off, he walked her to the door and told her goodnight. She gave him a small smile and thanked him before slipping inside.

He walked back to his car and watched as different lights in the house turned on and off as she made her way to what he assumed was her bedroom. She'd done so well tonight; he was almost proud of the way she'd handled everything with Richard. Seeing her tell off his ditzy date was just the icing on the cake, really. Once the bedroom light went out, House got in his car and drove home.

The only thing to greet him was darkness and silence, which he didn't mind, normally. He didn't really mind it all that much now, even. What he did mind was the fact that all he could think about was Cameron. How she'd acted, how she'd charmed … how she'd looked so damned delectable in that dress… He shook his head and turned on a light before settling in front of his piano.

His fingers ran absently over the keys before he decided that he needed a drink. The drink wasn't enough to calm him, so he played. The drink and the playing did nothing… He frowned and smacked his hand against the top of his beloved piano. He needed her. Now.

Cameron had barely drifted off to sleep when she heard the doorbell ringing. Sylvia and her husband were in the guest house, which meant Cameron would be answering the door. Knowing her luck, it was probably Richard.

She got out of bed and stepped into her slippers, pulling on a white robe and heading down the stairs to the front door. Whoever was there, they were horribly impatient. She looked through the peep hole and opened the door, stunned.

"House?" she asked, confused. "What are you doing here? I didn't leave anything in your car, did I?"

"No…" he told her slowly, stepping inside and pushing the door shut, locking it behind him. "You didn't forget anything." He took a step toward her and stopped, studying her for a moment.

"Well, then… Um… Why are you here?" Cameron asked uncertainly, feeling self-conscious with his blue eyes staring so intensely at her.

"I got home and started thinking," he told her quietly, reaching out and taking hold of her robe, pushing it slowly off of her shoulders, delighting when it fell so silently to the ground. "I took a beautiful woman to some benefit that I really didn't want to be at." She was wearing a white, satin nightgown. God help him. "This enigma of a woman who's been such a puzzle to me. Rich, powerful, untouchable Allison Cameron."

Goosebumps broke out on Cameron's arms and a small shiver ran through her. His voice was low and surprisingly seductive. She couldn't tell if he was angry, aroused, or confused, and that made this whole ordeal that much more exciting. She was at a loss for words, but House didn't seem to mind. He didn't even seem to really notice.

"I know next-to-nothing about your failed relationship with Richard. What I do know is that he tried to hit you and you kicked him out. I know the sex was horrible. I don't even know if you still love him." He seemed to be in some sort of trance, moving closer to her, and trailing his hands down her arms, leaning down to place a kiss on her exposed shoulder. "And right now, I don't care whether you do or not."

"Oh…?" She was so confused by his actions. Sure, she'd known there was an attraction, but she didn't expect him to give into it. Unless he had an ulterior motive…

"Tell me something," he whispered in her ear.

"Yeah…?"

"When was the last time you had good sex?"

Oh, God. "Fi-five years ago…"

"That's a lot of time to make up for, Allison."

The scruff on his chin was rubbing against her neck lightly and oh, but how wonderful it felt. Her nipples were already hard. She could swear she was getting wet just from the implication of sleeping with Greg House. And all she could manage was a weak, "Uh huh…"

"Well I can't pull a Rhett Butler and sweep you up the stairs, Scarlett," he growled, slipping a pinky beneath the flimsy strap over her left shoulder and ripping it easily. "So you either pick a couch really quickly or find an easy way for me to get up those steps."

Cameron stared at House, wide-eyed, and could think of nothing to say. She wanted him. Oh, God, she wanted him. But she couldn't say it; couldn't think of how to say it. Couldn't reverse the years of training she'd had in keeping desires quiet.

When she didn't answer, House smirked. "Did I stun you?" he asked, keeping hold of her arms and slowly moving to where he remembered the den to be. It wasn't exactly sexy to limp a woman to a room, but she didn't seem to mind. He wondered if she even noticed that they weren't moving evenly. "I hope that's why you're not saying anything."

"I … don't know what to say," she admitted, watching him with doe-eyes and following every move that he made.

"Tell me that you want me to fuck you senseless."

"Oh, God…"

"Unless, of course, you don't," he said with a predatory smirk, stopping.

She gripped his suit coat and pulled him, taking charge and walking backwards slowly toward the den. "I do," she replied.

"Then tell me."

"I…" She stumbled over the words, never having been overly bold in bed to begin with. "I want you to…"

House's smirk widened. "Say it, gorgeous."

"I want you to fuck me." She blushed as she said it, which sort of took away from the whole brassiness of the statement. But hell, it was so adorable that he didn't care. It was actually endearing.

"Good girl." He leaned in and nipped at her neck, thankful that they'd reached the den. Skillfully, he steered her to the over-sized chair that he'd been sitting in earlier. "Sit down."

Without hesitation, she did as he told her to do. Her heart was beating so fast that she would almost wonder how he couldn't hear it if she weren't a doctor. "I haven't got any condoms," she blurted out nervously. "I'm on the pill and-"

He sat on the coffee table across from the chair and put a finger to her mouth. "Don't tell me you're nervous," he teased, tracing her lips until they opened and slipping the tip of his finger into her mouth to wet it and trace her lips once more. "You're big, bad Allison Cameron. Confident, assertive, stunning…"

She could do nothing but watch him and gulp occasionally. "I… It isn't… I'm not the sex kitten people seem to think I am," she said in a whisper. "I … I've never even had sex in anything but the missionary position. Well, besides that one time when I was high, but I don't really think that should count because I wasn't in my right mind, and-"

"Quiet," he snapped, his hand going to her chin to pull her toward him. His lips grazed hers as he spoke. "I didn't come here to play the part of the bad lover. I'm supposed to be the one who satisfies you, remember? Isn't that what you told Richard?"

"Y-yes…"

"Then how about you shut up and let me satisfy you?"

She nodded and gave a soft whimper when his lips met hers in a heated kiss. It took her breath away every time he did this to her; his lips pulled passion from her, bruised her, and made her want to claw at him. She supposed that was a good thing, overall. It seemed to be the kind of response he wanted.

His lips left hers and she pouted, opening her eyes to see House's smirk. "Stand up," he murmured to her. "And ditch the nightgown."

Cameron gulped and stood, her legs shaking slightly. "Just … take it off?" she asked unsurely.

"And toss it to the side. I promise you won't need it for a while."

She blushed furiously as she took hold of the nightgown and slowly worked it off of her body, dropping it to the side of the chair. To stand before House in nothing more than panties was unnerving, and she moved to cross her arms over her chest.

House reached out and took her hands, staring at her body. "Don't _ever_ cover that beautiful body from me," he ordered.

She bit her lip, embarrassed but completely flattered. "Sorry," she whispered.

He tugged lightly on her hands to bring her down so that she bent over him. "Put your hands on the table," he told her, "and don't move them, no matter what. If you want me to stop, you say so."

She nodded and felt a thrill run down her spine. What was he going to do? Well, what _could_ he do, really? Their faces were centimeters apart and he kept his eyes on hers as his hands traveled away from her wrists.

He kept his eyes on hers, leaving her helpless to do anything but watch the emotions play in his. Those hands, piano player's hands and doctor's hands, moved along her arms. Under them, to her side, down to her hips to knead there. He played along her body, tickling across her abdomen and drawing a tiny giggle; teasing her breasts and drawing a quick gasp.

He ran his thumbs over her nipples, watching as she bit down on her bottom lip and whimpered. While he was half tempted to play with her breasts for the rest of the night, he dropped his hands. A slow smirk formed as she frowned at him. "Stand up straight," he told her. Once she did, he stood with her.

Cameron watched him curiously as he took off his tuxedo jacket, took off the tie, and began unbuttoning his shirt. "How come I don't get to order you around?" she asked with a quirked eyebrow.

He laughed as he tossed the shirt to the side. "Because if you tried, you'd stutter and blush all the way through. And that just takes away from the experience." Once his undershirt was gone, he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her to him, giving a soft moan when her breasts met his chest. "Besides, I think you'll like giving up control," he murmured, nipping at her top lip. "Even if it _is_ to a measly underling."

She rewarded his joke with a soft laugh and settled her hands on his hips, placing small kisses on his neck. He pulled away from her, though, not letting her get too close. "Turn around," he told her sternly. "Bend over, and take off the panties."

Cameron was not a stupid woman. She knew exactly why she was wet, she knew exactly how she'd gotten to the state of arousal that she was in… She just had no clue how House could be so damned good at being sexy. Licking her lips, she did what he'd told her to. Then, in a move of boldness that stunned even her, she quirked an eyebrow and held the panties up to him. "Are you so alpha male that you need to sniff or are you okay in that aspect?"

He smirked and took the garment from her, throwing it across the room. "Should I tell you to go fetch or will you be a good girl and keep your pretty little mouth shut?"

She was getting used to this game … and she was starting to like it. "I can keep my mouth shut," she said demurely.

"Aren't you a sweetheart?" he drawled, hand going to her hair and tugging so that her head came up. He bent down for a quick, hard kiss. "Do me a favor: get on your knees and take off my pants."

"I don't need to be on my knees to do that," she pointed out, unbuttoning the dress slacks from her standing position.

"Oh, I know," he said smoothly. "But I want you on your knees. Get there."

If she were any more wet, she was pretty sure that she'd be dripping onto her carpet. Keeping her eyes on his, she slowly lowered herself to her knees, pulling down the zipper to his slacks and pushing them off of his hips. "Anything else while I'm down here?" she asked sweetly.

"Maybe another time." He placed his hand under her chin and brought her back up. "I'm going to sit in that chair," he said, pointing to the chair that she'd been in earlier. "And you're going to straddle me."

"But your boxers…"

He rolled his eyes and shoved his boxers off of his hips before sitting in the chair. "Better?"

"Mmhmm. What about your-?"

"Vicodin's a beautiful thing and I'll guide you away from my bad thigh. Get on my lap, Allison."

She gave him a shy smile and straddled him as he'd told her to do, silently thanking her interior decorator for the idea to bring in an oversized chair. "Now what, Dr. House?" she asked with a cheeky smirk.

He returned her smirk and rested his hands on her hips. "Now, you're going to ride me. And you're not going to come until I tell you that you can. Sound like something you might like?" Before she could answer, he moved a hand to her center, dipping a finger inside. She gasped and dug her nails into his shoulders and he felt immense satisfaction. "I think you like that idea. Don't you?"

"Yes," she gasped out as he added another finger. "God, yes."

"Maybe I should make you come with my fingers first," he suggested, sounding almost bored. He decided that he loved playing this game with her. He enjoyed seeing her battle between being shy and being her normal, dominant self.

"Do whatever the hell you want to," she mewled, hips moving in the slow rhythm that he'd set with his fingers.

"What was it that you wanted me to do earlier?" he murmured into her ear, nipping at the lobe.

"Oh…"

"Tell me again, Allison. Tell me what you want me to do."

"I want you to fuck me," she bit out quietly, grinding against his hand.

"Louder, pet." He moved his finger as though he might to tell someone to come closer and she cried out.

"I want you to fuck me," she growled, panting for breath.

"Not loud enough," he teased. "I don't think you really want it…"

She whimpered and moved helplessly. "Please!" she begged.

He removed his fingers and smirked when she cried out in frustration. When he caught her eye, he made diligent work of licking her taste off of his hand. His move brought another whimper and even a pout. "Why the pout?" he asked innocently. "You want a taste?"

Her eyes narrowed and she leaned in so that her lips brushed against his ear. "I want you … to fuck me," she spat, biting at the sensitive skin beneath his ear.

"Good girl." He gripped her hips and moved her so that he could slide in easily. Once they were positioned properly, he pulled her down so that she slammed onto him, drawing long, low moans out of both of them.

She tried to move, but his grip on her hips stopped her. When she gave him a questioning look, he smirked at her.

"You're going to stay completely still," he panted, resting his forehead against hers. "Except for those wonderful muscles that are currently wrapped around my cock."

"I can't have an orgasm that way," she growled at him.

"Oh, you can," he told her. "Do it. I'll prove it."

She glared and tightened her muscles, holding them for as long as she could and feeling ever-so-triumphant when House seemed to choke on his own tongue. He bit out an expletive and she loosened the muscles. "Oh, sorry. Too much?"

He tangled his hands in her hair and pulled her in for a steamy kiss. "You keep doing that," he breathed into her ear. "And I'll take care of you."

She highly doubted that he'd take care of anything for all of … three seconds. She continued to tighten and loosen her muscles, enjoying the sensation, but not enough to really push her over the edge. That in itself was frustrating since she'd been so close not too long ago. And then … his thumb found her clit. "Oh … oh!" Her hips bucked, pulling him in deeper, and she gasped.

Somehow, he managed to look arrogant even when he was sweaty and panting for breath. Cameron wasn't sure whether she liked it or hated it. Right now, she didn't care. "Feel good?" he asked.

"Oh, God, yes…" She broke from words to mumbling incoherently as he continued to rub at her clit. "Please," she pleaded. "Oh, please…"

"Not yet," he told her, watching as her eyes slid shut. He could feel her nails biting into his shoulders, could tell how close she was by how she was tightening spasmodically around him. Her movements weren't anywhere near measured now, and he loved knowing that he was driving her wild. With a leer, he pinched her clit. "_Now_," he growled in her ear.

Her hips bucked to his once more as she let out a small scream, nails digging deeper into his skin, sure to leave a mark. Her head dropped forward to rest on his shoulder as she breathed heavily. "You're not even… You haven't…"

"Oh, you thought we were done?" he asked, faux-innocent. "How cute." He licked a bead of sweat off of her shoulder. "Once you've got your voice back, move to the couch."

She gave him a wide-eyed stare for a moment before moving off of him and managing to move to the couch on unsteady legs.

House stayed in his chair, watching her. Once she sat, he sat forward in the chair. "Stay there," he told her, "and spread your legs just as wide as you can."

"I… That's… You're…"

"Spread them, Princess." After she'd done as he'd told her to, he got out of the chair and crouched comfortably on the floor between her spread legs. He settled his hands on her thighs and leaned in, flicking his tongue along her entrance.

"House, you don't have to-"

"I want to," he cut her off. "I don't _have_ to be here screwing your brains out right now. But I want to be. To see your pillar of power fall is the sexiest thing I've seen in a long time." Not wanting to give her time to respond, he gave her a wink and moved back to drive her crazy with his tongue and teeth. He brought her to the brink again, and denied her once more.

She sobbed out his name and pleaded for him to return by gripping his hair and pushing him back toward her center. But he didn't listen, deciding instead to climb onto the couch and pull her over him once more, slamming her down for the second time that night. She cried out, clenching around him.

Once she'd come back down to earth, he laid back on the couch. "Think you can take one more?" he asked her with a quirked eyebrow.

"You're still hard," she gasped breathlessly. "What the hell are you? Superman?"

He smirked. "Very self-controlled," he corrected, hands kneading her hips. "Come on, Princess. Get me off."

"So eloquent," she murmured, hands resting on his chest as she moved slowly over him. She was already so sensitized, and every movement she made was cause to mewl.

"That's right," he muttered, watching her face contort with pleasure. "Keep moving, gorgeous; just a little faster."

She panted for breath, moving faster, taking him in deeper, and moaning all the while. "Greg…" A whimper. "Greg… It feels so good…"

"I know," he replied breathlessly. "Just a little harder."

Feeling her third orgasm for the night steadily rising, she moved as he instructed; faster, harder, take him in deeper. Her nails scraped at his nipples, her moans filled his ears. She came quietly the third time, and he growled her name when he spilled into her.

A while later, when she was wrapped around him on the couch and he felt the need for a cigarette for that damned fantastic sex, Cameron sighed. "We're going to need to move to my bedroom," she told him tiredly.

"Why?"

"I love Sylvia, but I don't want her seeing me sky clad, wrapped around a man on the couch in my den."

He snorted and looked around the room. "Can we at least leave the clothes here?" he asked with a devilish smirk.

She looked appalled for a moment, but slowly grinned. "That we can do." She got off of the couch and bent down to pick up his tuxedo shirt, putting it on her body and buttoning up a few of the buttons. After putting on the shirt, she located his cane and tossed it to him. "Can you do a flight of steps?"

"I could do _you_ on a flight of steps," he offered, grabbing his pills off of the ground and popping a couple. "I'll be fine. Let's get to your bedroom; maybe I can get that shirt off of you quicker than you managed to put it on."


	8. Chapter 8

House was awoken Sunday afternoon by the sound of a door opening and then a gasp. He frowned and opened his eyes groggily to see Sylvia, Cameron's maid, standing in the doorway with her hand over her mouth. He smirked and quirked an eyebrow at her.

"Pardon, Doctor," she said quietly, making her way out of the room.

House snorted in amusement as the door shut quietly, and Cameron stirred beside him. "What's so funny?" she mumbled, cuddling closer to the warmth that his body offered.

"You've appalled your servant," he teased, and Cameron's eyes shot open.

"Shit… Sylvia was in here?" she asked, obviously mortified.

"Only long enough to see you wrapped around me. It's alright; I'm not embarrassed."

She slapped his arm and got out of bed, wrapping the sheet around her body as she did so. "Poor Sylvia… She's got to be shocked by that. I haven't had a man in my room for years. Literally."

"Do you plan on telling her in a sheet that you're sorry for your outlandish behavior?" House mocked, sitting up on his elbows and smirking at her. "Or do you have a pretty Civil War ball gown hiding in your closet for occasions such as these?"

Cameron rolled her eyes and grabbed a thick, warm robe out of her closet. "You're horrible," she said lightly, tying the robe around her waist. She went to the side of the bed that he'd slept on and brushed a lingering kiss over his lips. "You want breakfast?"

He glanced at the clock. "It's more like lunchtime, Princess."

"We can still have breakfast."

"Do I get to eat naked?"

Cameron snorted. "I'll bring your clothes up from the den."

That week, the board of directors decided that House no longer had to function under an advisor. This meant that Cameron and House saw less and less of each other. They still saw each other outside of work… She'd lasted one whole week before she was pounding on his apartment door and cornering him, asking boldly if he'd like to fuck her a bit more.

They'd been having great sex just about every night since.

Richard was still running circles around the divorce, hemming and hawing for ways to delay the settlement. He showed up at the hospital one day, looking for Cameron in House's office since she hadn't been in hers. All he found there was House, tossing a ball in the air and catching it.

House glanced at Richard and sneered. "Hey, Dick."

Richard frowned, not bothering to correct House. Like the man would listen anyway. "Have you seen Allison?"

"Many times and in many ways. You want specifics?"

"_Today_," Richard drawled condescendingly. "Have you seen my ex-wife in the last hour or so?"

"Nope." He took out his iPod and put the ear buds into his ears.

"Dr. House," the man snapped, causing House to tilt his head to the side and quirk an eyebrow. "I know that you've been … _carrying on_ with her and I wish to know where she is so that I might ask her a few questions concerning this divorce."

House gave Richard a glare and pulled the ear buds out before standing. "Let's get something straight here, Dickey," he spat out. "You've been running in circles with this divorce for months now. Stop being an asshole and let her go, already. She's already gone, anyway."

"You, sir, know nothing about-"

"Save it for someone who wants to hear your bullshit," House cut in angrily. "I'm not one of those people. Now, I don't care why she married you. I don't care why she left you. All I care about is the fact that you're drawing this out in a vain attempt to get her back. But here's the thing: It's not going to happen. Ever. She's done with you and she's moved on to me."

Richard let out a malicious laugh. "You? Can you even walk through the park with her? She loves that, you know."

"She also loves being fucked from behind. Did you know that?"

Richard made a face of disdain. "Do you mean to one-up me with crassness?"

"I don't mean to; it's just a happy coincidence." He glared thoughtfully at the rich man in his office. "Tell you what … I'll make a deal with you. You seem like a deal-making sort of man." He cleared his throat. "You grow up and let Allison move on by being a man and signing those divorce papers, or I go on the record with how you tried to beat the shit out of her."

Richard's eyes widened. "You think you can blackmail me?"

"I know I can. See, Sylvia and her hubby and I are best buds now. And they can both account for the way you treated Allison before she shoved you out on your ass."

"How dare you," Richard glowered, an angry sneer on his face. "How dare you even think to imply that I would-?"

"It's not an implication," House interrupted. "If this divorce isn't finalized by the end of the month, I'm going to spill."

"When Allison finds out about this, she'll never forgive you."

"See, that's what's so sweet about this whole deal… Allison's never going to find out. You're not going to tell her. Because if you do, I'll find a way to dig up more dirt on you than you could ever imagine."

Richard glared at House, but wasn't dumb enough to call the man's bluff. He was insane; it was official. And Allison was insane for wanting him. He turned on his heel and left the office.

Two weeks later, the divorce was finalized. Cameron and House celebrated with a fancy dinner, which Cameron gladly paid for. They had a good time, finally uninterrupted by anything Richard might want to do to hinder things for Cameron. House was surprised at how open she was willing to be now, but he wasn't about to complain. He was solving his puzzle, and that was all that mattered.

"It's time to spill," he told her, pushing his empty plate away and settling his elbows on the table. "Why'd you marry him?"

Cameron sighed and shrugged her shoulders delicately. "He…" She snorted. "He swept me off of my feet," she said flatly. "He was kind and sweet and charming; he was the opposite of you. He reminded me of Lucas."

"Lucas?"

"The one that died."

"Oh, right." House couldn't help but give a little smirk. "You just work your way through husbands, don't you?"

Cameron snorted. "You know me. I'm a regular black widow. First one dies of cancer, I get as much money as possible out of the second one… Wanna be the third? I could poison you or something."

"Hemlock?"

"Well, you _do_ love the Socratic method…" She laughed and twirled the wine in her glass. "Anyway… Richard reminded me of something that I wanted to be, not who I was. And I guess I was okay with settling for it at the time. But as the years went by … well … I didn't want it anymore. I just wanted to be … _me_."

"Sylvia told me why you divorced him. Well … the final reason, at least," House informed her nonchalantly. "I figured she would've spilled it to you by now."

She grinned. "Sylvia can't hide anything from me. After you went home the day after the benefit, she cornered me and spilled her guts. I forgave her; she was looking out for me. It's what she does."

"She thinks you're her daughter."

"Hmm… In a way, I am. She never had kids and she likes taking care of people. She hated that I was with Richard and told me so on a regular basis." She finished off her wine and set the glass down delicately. "She's been like a mother to me. My parents were ecstatic when I married Richard and they didn't believe that he'd ever do wrong. I suppose it was a part of him being rich… Who knows? They weren't happy when I grabbed up a divorce."

House frowned, sitting back in his chair. "And do you still love him?"

"God, no," Cameron said instantly. "I can't love a man who thinks it's okay to raise a hand to me. Ordering me around in the bedroom is one thing," she told him with a wink. "Attempting to abuse me is quite another."

He smirked. "I'll be sure to keep that in mind." After a short pause, during which he studied her carefully, he took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "So why did you get so much money from him? You didn't need it…"

"I wanted to make him hurt any way that I could," Cameron answered hesitantly. "I don't think he ever really felt anything for me, and I can live with that now. I can live with the mistake that I made. But I wanted him to feel it, if only a little bit. So … I took everything that I could get. Hell, House. I claimed emotional damages. I had a psychiatrist convinced that I was suffering from borderline post-traumatic stress because of the fact that he'd tried to hit me. I screwed with him just as much as he'd screwed with me."

She sounded so bitter. So angry. Was it wrong of House to feel … almost proud? "Feel good to get him where it hurt?" he asked blandly.

Cameron, to House's surprise, smirked. "I'm just like you," she said with a quirked eyebrow, raising her water to him in a toast before taking a sip.

Once all of the money that she'd won in the settlement had been transferred to her account, Cameron wrote a large check to the hospital to do with as it pleased. This hardly surprised House, as Cameron hadn't changed when it came to giving to the needy. She gave her time, her health, her heart, and her money. That was just who she was.

What surprised him was when she showed up at his apartment a week or so after their dinner with a neatly wrapped box in her hands. "I know it's not your birthday," she explained excitedly. "And I know that you hate getting gifts, but I saw this and I had to pick it up for you." She shoved the box into his hands and entered the apartment, shutting the door behind her.

"Cameron…"

"Oh, just open it!" she exclaimed. "Come on."

He was uncomfortable with the idea, but he sat down on the couch and opened the gift as Cameron sat by his side. When he saw what was in the box, he tried to shove it back at her. "No way," he protested. "Forget it, Princess. I don't want your rich girl gifts…"

"I want you to have it," she said with a pout, shoving the box back toward him. "I saw it and it reminded me of you. Don't think about what it could have cost… Just … take it. Please?"

"For what?" he asked coolly. "A token of your appreciation? You paying me for the hot sex now? What?"

"House," she scolded. "You know that's not… Look, I just wanted to do something nice for you. I thought you'd like it…"

"I'm not saying that I don't," he protested. "But buying me an antique grandfather clock for my mantle that had to cost upwards of one thousand dollars isn't 'something nice.' It's crazy."

"It's not…" She sighed and slouched her shoulders. "I wish you'd keep it."

"I have nothing to give you in return. This is why I hate gifts…"

"You've given me plenty!" she exclaimed. "You stepped in and acted the part of the new lover when I needed someone to throw Richard off of my scent. And then you showed…" She blushed and stood, pacing behind the couch. "You made me feel … _good_ again. So, sure. See it as me paying you for sex. I don't care. Just _keep it_ because I want you to _have it_."

House frowned and set the box on the coffee table. "Fine," he said flatly.

"Fine," she snapped back.

"I'll keep it."

"I'm glad."

"Alright then."

"Good."

They looked at each other, Cameron biting her bottom lip and House quirking his eyebrow. After a few moments, Cameron gave a small smile. House rolled his eyes and stood, going to her. He brushed a kiss over her lips, pulling her close. "I appreciate your show of affection," he said snootily.

Cameron laughed and smacked his arm. "Shut up."

"I'll bet he sounded like that," House mocked with a smirk. "Allison, darling," he continued, mocking Richard's voice and upper-crust accent. "You simply must buy yourself a miniature poodle for your birthday. I simply don't have the _time_ to go get one for you."

"Stop it!" she exclaimed, face scrunched with laughter.

"But darling!" he went on, starting to laugh, himself. "The drapes are _perfect_ for the dining area!"

"Oh, God, House… Stop it. Right now." Her face was buried in his chest as she tried to suppress her giggles.

"What do you _mean_ you're having illicit relations with that older doctor? It's _horrendous_ and _scandalous_!"

"You sound like Scarlett O'Hara, not Richard."

"Same thing."

House and Cameron settled into a pattern: snark at work, snark at home, have great sex, repeat. Neither of them minded, especially since the sex seemed to be a little different each time. Which, in Cameron's eyes, was practically Heaven on earth.

When she invited him over for dinner one night, she was pleasantly surprised to see him come in and sit at the piano, pushing out a beautiful tune while they waited for dinner to finish.

"That's gorgeous," she said softly. "Who wrote it?"

"Me," he admitted a bit awkwardly as he continued to play. "You bought me this huge, expensive gift and I could've bought you something like a necklace or a ring or something. A tennis bracelet."

Cameron made a face and House laughed.

"But that was something Dickey would do," he said, looking at the keys of the piano. "And I couldn't follow in that idiot's footsteps. So I did something that took no money at all."

It dawned on Cameron what he'd done and tears sprang to her eyes. "You didn't…" She swallowed. "You didn't write this for me, did you?"

"It's mostly improv, so no. I didn't write it for you."

"Oh…"

"Don't cry," he warned, stopping his playing and spinning to face her. "It's supposed to make you smile or something."

She laughed with tears in her eyes.

"I'll live with that," he replied in a murmur, giving her a small smirk.


End file.
